Heart Is A Hole
by sherlockianmuser
Summary: Luke Smith was the son of Sarah Jane Smith. His friends were called Maria Jackson, Clyde Langer and Rani Chandra and he had even gained a new sister called Sky. But it was only until he met the newest member of the family that things started to fall apart, collapsing until the pieces of his heart were left shattered, only to be picked up by the most unlikely person of them all...
1. Chapter 1

**This is just a one shot based on 'Heart is a Hole' by Cherri Bomb (listen to it whilst reading for the full effect), which I've been dying to write a fic about. The idea came to me when I re-watched the final episode of Series 5 of The Sarah-Jane Adventures. Read on for more...**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Sarah-Jane Adventures :(**

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I was so excited to be home: being in Oxford had given me the best opportunities I could ever have hoped for, like how to cook for myself, survive without the comfort of the people I'd known my whole life, and experiment with so much more freedom in science. But nothing compared to home. Home was honest, trusting, and was the place my heart beat most comfortably in. I couldn't wait to see how the Clani relationship was developing. I knew it, Mum knew it, and, I think, both Rani and Clyde knew that they had a bond like no other, so I gave them a paired name. It annoyed Clyde, which was one of the reasons I continued in using it, but that spark was there. Something that couldn't be ignored.

I was also excited to see Mum; I'd missed her. She had always seemed so frantic but relieved whenever we messaged online, and I was glad she had found Sky. Sky had kept her mind off me, and helped her concentrate on fighting aliens whilst having another person to talk to in the house, but I couldn't help but feel worried. Not for them, but for myself.

Were my nightmares coming true?

I didn't think so.

I pulled up the driveway, my bright yellow car adding a splash of colour to the seemingly drab Bannerman Road. Home, at last. The flowers had started to wilt in the autumn weather, but home had never looked so good. It was funny how time away made you have a new perspective on life. I went to the door dragging my large suitcase behind my legs. The wheels scuffed noisily behind my feet, and occasionally scraped the back of my legs. Nothing too serious, though. I pushed the white wooden door labelled '13', and noticed the door had been left unlocked.

The house was still itself: the hallway was well lit, with the doors to the living room and kitchen both wide open, revealing the kitchen cabinets and cream sofas in the two separate rooms; the stairs wound higher and higher, with numerous news articles and pictures following it's pathway. It was so beautiful, the only home I ever knew.

I lifted the heavy suitcase once I'd reached the stairs, surprising myself with my new found strength. Before Oxford, Mum would do most of the carrying, as I hadn't really carried much strength, but being away from her allowed me to explore that region of myself. I wasn't about to go to a gym every day, but picking and carrying boxes to my dorm and bags from my car had strengthened my muscles that little bit better. I'd reached the second level of the house, just below the attic. I placed my suitcase down excitedly, and wheeled it to the front door of my room, a huge smile across my face.

Only, it wasn't my room anymore. The walls weren't light blue anymore, with tiny insects placed on its surface. Instead, it had been painted a sunny yellow, just a little creamier than my car. There were children's toys littered on the floor, all things little girls would play with. Sky.

"Right. Yeah. Not my room anymore," I realised aloud, as I took in the rest of the room. Large sunflowers were on the shelf that used to house all my science books and models. Had Mum thrown them out? Probably so. I turned round back to the landing, and pushed my suitcase away from me.

Looks like it would be the spare room for me.

"Luke, oh, welcome home!" Mum gleamed at me. Seeing her face brought back so many happy memories. I was so glad to be home. I ran up to her, and we engaged in a long hug. I'd missed her so much.

We let go, and I turned to face Clyde and Rani. "Hi Clani," I smiled.

Rani scowled happily. "Don't call us that." She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek.

"Clani? Who's Clani?" Mum said, confused.

"Clyde. Rani. Clani," Clyde summarised.

"It's meant to be funny,"

"We can't keep away," Clyde said jokingly, shaking my hand.

Mum propped her hand against my back, and turned me around to face Sky. "Luke, meet Sky. In person,"

"Sky. Hi. Hi Sky," I said nervously. She seemed cautious. Did she like me?

Her eyes looked panicked. "You're taller than you look on webcam," she said.

"Yes... yes I am," I said cheerfully, looking down at my body. I wasn't that tall, was I? I hoped I wasn't too scary. "Sorry, I-I just went in your room. Forgot it's not mine anymore," I said awkwardly, trying to make some sort of conversation. Sky didn't seem to want to co-operate with me.

"It's the best room and you don't live here anymore," she said, almost annoyingly.

_Yes, I don't_, I confirmed in my head. I paused, thinking of something to say to cover my hurt. "It fine, it's really fine," was all I could manage. I looked at Sky, attempting to smile. I hoped she would smile back, but all I received were sad eyes.

There was an awkward silence.

"I'm sorry, Mum. I just wanted to say hi. Do you mind if I go and unpack my stuff?" I asked. I had to get away from those eyes.

Mum nodded, unaware. "Yes, of course you can," she said happily.

I went for the door, shutting it as I left. I didn't continue though. Instead, I just stopped. I slipped my back daintily, against the surface of the wooden door to the attic, and slid down to the ground. So, Sky had my room because I didn't live here anymore. If I was living here still, would she be in the spare room? Would we get on? Probably, so.

I was about to get up and unpack, when I overheard a conversation in the attic. The voices were slightly muffled, but I made out every word perfectly. Too perfectly. I wish I hadn't.

"Sarah-Jane, I don't know whether I like Luke anymore," Sky started. So she didn't like me. But, we'd been so comfortable on webcam. We had talked about the metal kind, her powers and how Mum had rescued her from her death.

But things changed.

"Oh Sky. Why?" Rani asked, concern in her voice.

"He seems scary. And, I don't think he likes me either," she said.

"I'm sure he does, Sky. He was smiling with you the whole time. Maybe you were just-"

"No, Sarah-Jane!" Sky interjected suddenly. "He wasn't smiling. He was hiding."

"Sky, I really don't think he was hiding," Mum said, a dryness arising in her throat.

Clyde joined in. "Sarah-Jane. Luke was acting different. If he liked Sky, surely he'd have stayed and we've had a normal conversation."

"I'm afraid to say I agree with Clyde," Rani said. "When Sky said Luke was taller than she imagined, Luke kept looking at his own body."

Mum sighed. "I'm sure he just didn't want to scare her,"

"I'm not afraid of him," Sky burst.

I was shocked. Sky was turning people against me. She didn't know she was doing it, she just didn't like me. She didn't understand what was going on at the time, but if she had, maybe she wouldn't have said anything. She could have come to me personally to talk about it, so we could sort it out. But she didn't. Now Clyde and Rani were beginning to see me as some kind of monster. At least, that's how I thought they saw me.

My nightmares had come true. I had been replaced by a 12 year old girl, who had amazing electric powers, and had the charm to manipulate a whole room without her even knowing she was doing it. I was nothing compared to her. Who cares if you have the brain power of 10,000 people? It's nothing compared to the power of controlling electricity, and being a girl. Mum had seemed much more comfortable with Sky around, now. She could talk about clothes, aliens, school and life with someone around the house. Clyde seemed fine with being surrounded by girls, too. He had Rani, of course.

"Maybe you're right," Mum gave in.

_No, Mum. Don't believe her! I'm not scary, and I do like her_, I thought.

I stood up silently from the door. I didn't hear the rest of the conversation. I went to the spare room, and grabbed my suitcase, still packed. Before I left the room, though, I grabbed a pad and a pen. This is what I wrote:

_Mum, Sky, Clyde and Rani,_

_I'm sorry for acting strange around you all, especially you, Sky. I was just nervous about meeting you. I hoped we could become friends, but I overheard what you said to the others. I'm not scary, I'm not going to replace you and what you with the Mum, Rani and Clyde, and I'm not going to steal your room away from you._

_You can be sure of that._

_Clyde and Rani, take care. It seems that you don't trust me either, seeing as you both came to Sky's defence so quickly. Just take care._

_Mum, I tried to be as friendly as I could be. I'm thankful for everything you have done for me, but you've got Sky, now. You don't need me. I'm the one that's been replaced now, just like the Nightmare Man depicted in my dreams. No, my nightmares. Look after Sky, Clyde and Rani as well as yourself and the Earth._

_Before I leave, just know that I'll wait for 1 hour before I leave this note in this room, and leave Bannerman Road. It'll give you time to talk to me. If you do talk to me, and we sort this tiff out, you won't be reading this. If you are... why?_

_I'm sorry, but all my faith has been turned into doubt. If I had the TARDIS, I would go back in time and make myself stay in the room, but I can't. I'll always think of you when I close my eyes, but home now is not here. My heart used to be this place, but now my heart is a hole._

_Please forgive me._

_Luke x_

I waited. I walked around the kitchen, pretending everything was ok, waiting for them to come to me. None of them did. I caught them looking at me like I was some sort of freak. They were the looks I deserved, though. At one point, Rani pulled Sky into a room, and they talked together. I didn't hear what they said, but when they came back out, they just ignored me. I thought I knew my friends inside out. Clyde had told me that friends always tell me the truth, and that we always look out for each other and we fix every problem we have. This was why Sky and I could never be friends.

After the hour was up, I retired to my room. Mum had gone out to get food for dinner, and Clyde and Rani were with Sky, no doubt talking about me. I slipped the note carefully on the bed, and got my suitcase. I lifted the heavy load, and silently crept down the stairs, careful to not make any creaks on the old floorboards. When I reached the bottom floor, I didn't bother on wheeling the case on the floor; they'd hear me. They'd had their time to talk to me, and they hadn't. I got outside, and went to my car. I unlocked the boot, and shoved my bag in the space provided.

Tears started to creep down my cheeks. I wiped them away, and ran to the driver's door, my hands shaking as I pulled the door open to the wheel of the car.

"I'm sorry, everyone," I muttered as the engine spluttered into life, and I sped off into the distance.

I always think of them when I close my eyes, their faces still heavily imprinted on my mind. They'll never find me here. Not even Mr Smith. I wish I could fix the mess. The SerfBoard case was too suspicious for me: I knew Mum, Sky, Luke and Clyde had been part of it. They'd revealed that the SerfBoard was nothing but an ordinary computer, and a pretty rubbish one at that two, especially after the rumours. I also knew there was something more to that case, too, but I didn't want to drive up and ask them. Not now. It's still too soon to talk to them, and explain how that day hurt me more than anything.

They'd confirmed by nightmares. I just hope that when I'm ready that they haven't forgotten me.

_Please, Mum. When I'm ready, I'll come back. I promise._

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**I hope that was ok for you guys. I've been so desperately wanting to write an AU for that story, considering all the nightmares Luke had about being replaced, and then Sky came along. I was happy when they became friends, obviously, but I wanted to do a different take on the story.**

**Review if you want to :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello SJA readers! I know that this story was only meant to be a OneShot/Songfic, but I got reviews asking for a sequel. After that, my head just came up with too many scenarios to put in just one sequel, so now Heart is a Hole is a story! *Cheers by herself*. Well, I hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with the Sarah-Jane Adventures, their characters or locations.**

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I didn't know when I would be ready to face them: it could have been days, months or years before I would fully get over the reality of the situation. I just didn't expect that I would face them the next day.

It started when I drove back to Oxford. I found K9 powered down in my bedroom, waiting for me to press the button to activate him. "Not just yet," I said to the sleeping dog. Time alone seemed most fitting for the moment.

I lay tiredly on my bed, exhausted from driving to and from Bannerman Road twice in one day. Today was supposed to be a good day, meeting Sky, being back with Rani, Clyde and Mum. It would have felt like the good old days, but with a new member, someone who we could share what we've been through, and the thrills and the dangers our style of life brought. Now I had no one. I had K9, but I thought he would prefer to be with Mum. She was his mistress, after all. Sometimes, he would even tell me how he preferred to be with the Doctor rather than Mum, mainly through his programming that the Doctor was his original master.

I could not compete with anyone today.

Why had Rani and Clyde come to Sky's defence so quickly? What if Maria was my only true friend that I never saw? Ever since Clyde and found Rani, they'd formed a strange bond that was stronger than anything I'd ever felt, not that they noticed it themselves. That was why I'd called them Clani. Were they happier without me? Were they more comfortable without the freak hanging on their friendship? Even Sarah-Jane could have a better time with Sky than with me. She could teach things to Sky that I wouldn't be able to understand, things that girls go through, and still have someone to care for and protect.

No one needed me anymore.

I didn't really know what to do, so I activated K9. The metal neck of the dog squeaked as it craned upwards. He needed oiling again. The buttons on top of his bulky body lit up and blinked in messy and unorganised times, and the red, stripy lines, which depicted, what would be his vision, glowed dull red. His thin tail wagged slightly, and he turned to face me. If he was human, he would have looked confused.

"Master Luke, why are you home so early?" The inevitable question came.

I sighed. "Stuff happened. I'd rather not talk about it," I said blandly.

K9 drove closer. "Studies suggest that talking about problems and concerns help ease pressure and stress off humans."

"I know."

"Would you like to talk about it, Master Luke?"

I looked down at him. Surely K9 wouldn't abandon me either; he was only a metal dog, but he was Mum's metal dog. I told him anyway. "I went back home-"I flinched. Was home 'home' anymore? "And, I think I may have done something wrong. I was introduced to Sky, but I think she felt intimidated by me. She kept commenting about my height, and I became paranoid. I didn't want to show her that I was paranoid, though, and a bit sad about my room not being 'mine' anymore, so I said I'd go and unpack my things. Instead, I listened to what they said about me. K9, I don't think Clyde and Rani like me anymore."

"Master Luke, Rani and Clyde have always been your best friends," K9 said.

"I'm not sure now. Sky made sure of that. Even Mum gave in to what she was saying about me," I said blankly.

"What did Sky say?"

I breathed in. "She said she thought I didn't like her, but I was just nervous. Then, the way Clyde and Rani talked about me mad me sound like some sort of monster. I-I don't know what to do now," I sobbed slightly, my voice turning hoarse at the memories.

"I'm afraid I cannot help you there, Master Luke. I do not fully understand human emotions, but did talking make you feel better?" K9 asked. He said he didn't understand emotions, but I thought I detected a hint of concern in his metallic voice.

"I don't know. It's too early to say."

I spent the rest of that night lying in my bed, saying nothing, drinking nothing and eating nothing. K9 respected that I need to be alone, so he retired to the kitchen area where he would be farthest away from me. The conversation kept on spinning through my head, the way my friends and family gave in to this one girl. It made her more powerful than she could ever know. Maybe it was her vulnerability because she was so much younger. Was that why she won? I doubted it. I wish I hadn't left home to go to university: it had brought the Nightmare Man and Sky, both seemingly in league with one another without knowing.

My phone buzzed more times that night than I could count. Well, I did count actually: 24 times in total. After the 25th call, I snuck a glance at my phone. Mum and Clyde had both called me during the night, Mum 16 times and Clyde 9 times. Rani didn't call at all. Did that mean they were worried about me? I desperately wanted to check but, at the same time, I didn't. What if they weren't worried, what if they wanted to tell me off. That would make Rani the most decent of them all.

The phone stopped buzzing, and I guessed they had all gone to bed, the situation still in everyone's head. I hoped the length of no contact hadn't strengthened Sky's hold over everyone, but I would know soon enough.

I fell asleep, and it was the most peaceful part of the night. Since I didn't dream, I had no fear of nightmares, especially since we defeated the Nightmare Man, who I hoped wouldn't return. It was too short though; in, what felt like, seconds, I was up awake again, my eyes tired from the late night. I checked my phone again. One missed call from Mum.

"Do you miss your mother?" K9 asked.

"K9, I've been at Oxford for a year and now you ask me whether I miss Mum?" I retorted.

K9 wheeled forward from the doorway of the kitchen. "I'm sorry, Master Luke."

"No, I'm sorry K9. I shouldn't have snapped," I apologised. "I just want to talk to her, face to face."

"You could return me to Mistress Sarah-Jane." And there it was. He was using the situation as an excuse to get away from me. Was I really that repulsive? I didn't lash out at him; I really wanted to talk to everyone, and maybe I could fix it. Maybe K9 didn't want to leave me, but I couldn't be sure.

"That sounds like a plan. When should we leave?"

"In order to proceed as quickly as possible, I suggest we leave today, now to be precise."

I nodded. It would be less of a shock this way if it ended badly, but it would pass over if it ended happily-ever-after. "Okay. We'll leave now."

Neither K9 nor I talked during the journey. I was too busy planning what to say and the excuse for K9, and K9 was saving his power by hibernating during the journey. I didn't call Mum; I wanted it to be a surprise so that she didn't have time to prepare a monolithic speech that would... hurt me? I didn't know whether Mum could hurt me more than I already was. She had always been so caring...

I pulled up in the driveway, my legs stiff from sitting on the car for over an hour. K9 lifted his head up out of hibernation, and he hovered out of the passenger door. We walked up to the door together, and I knocked tensely.

"K9, I'm scared," I said. It was true: my hands were shaking once I stopped knocking, and my breathing was accelerating at an incredible rate. My palms were sweating, and doubts crawled into every space in my head. "I'm not ready yet."

"You will be fine, Master Luke. Mistress will forgive you, she is your mother, after all," he comforted.

I breathed in slowly. "Okay, I believe you," but I didn't. I didn't know who to believe.

It wasn't Mum who answered the door, it was Rani. Her relaxed face suddenly tensed, looking at me like I was an alien who needed to be killed in that instance. My hopes dropped.

"What are you doing here?" She spat.

"I-I wanted to apologise to everyone, explain why I'm here-"

"You lied in that letter Luke. I _know_ you don't like Sky!"

A tear started to well in my eye. "Rani, I didn't lie! I liked Sky! She was so friendly on the webcam, and I was excited to meet her. All I did was leave the room and she turned you all against me!" I found myself shouting. Rani stepped back from my anger. "I'm sorry I shouted Rani," I conceded.

"You should be." Where had the Rani I knew gone? Where had her kind demeanour vanished too? Suddenly, Clyde rolled beside her, a better expression on his face.

"Luke!" He said, barging past Rani to get to me. "Where'd you go last night, we were so worried," he said.

"I'm really, really sorry about that. Didn't you read the letter?" I asked confusedly.

"What letter?" Clyde said confusedly.

I looked at Rani, whose eyes raged with annoyance at my presence.

"I left a letter, explaining why I left. It was in the spare room..." Again, my eyes flickered to Rani. This time, though, Clyde followed my gaze.

"Did you read the letter?" He almost ordered. Rani was silent. "Did you read the letter?" He asked again, turning his body with his head.

"Yes. Sky took it away believing it was a pack of lies. I believed her." Her voice was icy, but hot like venom at the same time, and full of spite. Her trust in me was completely broken.

"What did it say?" He asked her, not turning to me.

"Just some drabble about being nervous about meeting Sky, but that he wanted to get to know her. How he eavesdropped on our conversation and fled like a child in the dark," she said.

"Luke, did you hear what we said?"

My head bowed down slightly. "Yes. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I just stopped against the attic door, and your voices came through. I was too curious to go away. I did want to know Sky, I really did, I was just nervous," I explained, but Rani wouldn't have it.

"You don't believe him, do you?" She said venom again in her voice.

"Yes, I do Rani. I've known him longer than both you and Sky, and I believe him," he said without facing her. At least I had someone on my side.

There was an awkward silence, and Clyde turned around to walk to the kitchen, Rani quickly at his heels. I looked carefully at Rani's face, and caught a glimpse of her... smirking? I couldn't tell, but, after that, I couldn't help but doubt Clyde, all of a sudden. What if he'd made a face to Rani that told her he was on her side? Why would he even do that anyway, surely it would be better if he told me? _Not more lies_, I kept on thinking.

I didn't move as the two of them bickered and argued in the kitchen, and all I could see was that my presence was damaging the rest of group.

How could I have been so selfish? I told myself they didn't need me all night, and all I was doing by coming here was creating a rift between them. _I wish I could just disappear..._ I thought.

I've often heard people say in films, TV shows and books telling people to 'be careful what you wish for', and it was only up until that point in my short life that I understood why, because now, my wish has come true.

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**I hope you guys enjoyed that! Reviews are welcome, you know, I'm not **_**that**_** scary.**

**I'll try an update soon.**


	3. Chapter 3

**First and foremost, I am truly sorry for how long it has taken me to update this story. I've been focusing on my two other stories 'More Than Just a Servant' (Merlin) and 'The Law' (Criminal Minds) more than this one, but I've made myself a router that makes sure I update all three of my stories fairly. So yeah, here is Chapter 3 of 'Heart is a Hole'.**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Sarah-Jane Adventures characters; they belong to the BBC.**

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I couldn't believe what I'd seen back at Bannerman Road: Clyde had lied to me! He'd given me false hope! I could see the smirk Rani had pulled when I couldn't see his face, and, in that instance, I knew Clyde had tricked me into believing him. Sky had really done something to them, but I didn't know what she'd done. Had she hypnotised them? Had she hypnotised me into saying all the stuff they thought I'd said but I couldn't see it? It felt so complicated.

I contemplated talking to Mr Smith for a few minutes while Rani and Clyde 'argued' in the kitchen, hoping that he could scan me or Rani and Clyde for any sign of hypnosis, but I couldn't bear to stay in that house any longer. All it did was bring me pain.

I left K9 in the hallway of the house. He'd be happier there with his mistress. I knew he would be. He'd said so himself so many times in the past whenever he was missing Mum and bit too much. I shut the large white door behind me, feeling the lock shut tight as it closed. The front garden still had so much greenery to it that made me feel slightly sick, combined with my terrible nerves. My bright yellow car was still parked in the driveway, illuminated by the sun's light. The yellow paint mixed with the green pigment of the plants made me feel sicker. I was making my way to the driver's door when I heard the happiest, perkiest voice call my name from the opposite side of the road. Gita Chandra.

"Luke!" She called. "Luke, I heard you were back! How are you, my darling?" She said as she abandoned her plants to come over to me.

"I'm okay," I lied, barely taking in her squeeze of a hug. "I'm heading back to Oxford now."

Gita cocked her head, slightly disappointed. "It's such a shame, Rani's been looking forward to your visit for weeks now. She said you'd be here for the rest of the week. Did you get to see her?"

I sighed. "Yeah, I did."

"Why are you leaving so early?"

She wouldn't stop asking questions, and I could feel Rani and Clyde's cold stares penetrate the back of my skull. "Stuff happened. I've really got to go."

"Well, have a safe journey back to Oxford, little genius," she said as she headed back to her roses, which were turning a light pink colour instead of the deep red they'd been originally since I last saw them. The joys of having an eidetic memory meant I could never forget anything I saw: I didn't really need it for the conversation Rani, Clyde and I had had early, though.

As I made my way to the seat of my car, I saw Rani and Clyde watch me from the doorway. However, before I got inside my machine, I stared at both of them.

"Why did you lie, Clyde?"

Rani and Clyde both looked at each other. "I told you he'd work it out!" Rani said.

"It's really none of your business, freak," Clyde said as Rani looked back towards me.

"Yeah, you're the one that was horrible to Sky and the one who keeps on lying to us," she said.

I dipped my head down and swallowed away the lump in my throat. It did nothing to stop the quaking fear in my stomach, though. "I wasn't horrible to Sky,"

"Ah, here we go-"

"And I'm not lying!" I shouted, stopping Rani from finishing her sentence. "She's done something to you, and I don't know what! But I promise that if you never want to see my face again I'll gladly oblige. I can't be friends with people who don't trust me!"

There was a dead silence. Then, Rani and Clyde smirked.

"Okay then. We never want to see you again," they said in unison.

The dry, pained feeling in my throat returned as my eyes began to fill with tears. This was it. I climbed into my seat and started the engine up, letting the tears in my eyes roll over my cheeks. It was over, now. Everything was over. Mum, Rani, Clyde and Sky, along with Mr Smith and K9, would be able to battle aliens without me in peace – if you could call fighting peace. I would get on with my life. Finish my course at Oxford... maybe work on a PhD or two that would earn me the title 'Dr Luke Smith' and save the world in my own way. Find the cure for cancer, maybe?

Then, as I began to pull out the driveway with my sodden sobs, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. Mum. I couldn't ignore her again, so I pulled over into the neighbouring street and answered my phone, quickly trying to regain my composure.

"Hello?" I said, my voice shaky and hoarse.

"Luke! I've been so worried! Where are you?" Mum said down the line, breathing frantically.

"I'm fine Mum," I said reassuringly, even though I wasn't. "I'm outside Bannerman Road... I was looking for you. I wanted to talk-"

"Oh Luke, so do I," she said, interrupting me. "I'm at Serf Systems as a leading journalist for the day. If you still feel like talking, you could come over. I can still bring one more person to the event."

"Wait, who else is there?" I asked, wondering who the other person was.

"Just a few other journalists and... Sky," I knew it.

I paused. "When we talk, will Sky be there?"

She paused too. "I'm not sure. She's at the toilet at the moment. You'll have to see when you get here," she said.

"Okay. I'll see you there," I said, really hoping that Sky wouldn't be there to greet me with a sadistic 'hello' like Rani had done.

The journey to Serf Systems was uneventful, but it allowed me to think for a bit – clear my head. What had I done wrong? I couldn't even begin to understand why my own friends, my own _family_, wanted me to feel like this. Why? Mum, Clyde and Rani were all good people with good hearts who cared for me and helped me become a part of this world as someone normal – well, as normal as I could get. They taught me all different values in life, but now they were casting me out.

My nightmares really were coming true.

I remembered the Nightmare Man showing me how easily Mum could adopt someone new into her life, and how quickly Clyde and Rani would accept them... and how they could forget about me so willingly. As I stared at the bleak road ahead of me, unravelling how similar real life was to a nightmare, not even the bright sunshine paint on the bumper of my car could bring my mood up. Instead of clearing my head, I fogged it up into a storm; a storm of raging confusion.

I just wanted to know what was going inside all of their heads. What had they been thinking in the attic? What did Clyde and Rani think immediately after seeing me turn up to the doorstop? Was it disgust?

I didn't know: all I knew was I had only a few minutes until the winding roads led me to Serf Systems.

I turned left, and then right, then left again as the grey roads grew less and less exciting. All the buildings seemed the same to me here, grey, dull and metallic, with cars dotted numerously around the front of each hungry building. They reminded me of how starved I felt. I didn't think I'd eaten since the day before.

I parked my car just outside the barrier gates into Serf Systems. I knew I wouldn't be let in without a pass, so I sent Mum a quick text telling her: 'I'm outside the building. I won't be let in without a pass. See you in a minute x."

It took me nearly ten minutes to write that text. Every word I typed into my phone felt wrong and twisted, as if Mum would get the wrong impression in the message that I was writing. Maybe she thought I was weak because I wouldn't get into the building? Maybe she thought I was too scared to see her? My troubles were relieved when she texted me back: "Okay then, Luke. I'll see you in a minute x."

My body instantly relaxed at the message: I could feel my limbs morph from tense, hard objects into flowing parts of my body; my head cleared enough for me to see some of the natural beauty in this industrial environment; the terrible buzz in my stomach cleared for moment until I thought what I would say to her. I didn't have enough time to think of anything, though, as Mum suddenly whisked around the corner of the metal gate, Sky next to her.

_Oh no_, I sighed in my head. _Please, why did Sky have to come?_

"Why the heck did you come here, Luke?" Sky snapped venomously. She sounded just like Rani.

"I-I needed to talk to you... I need you to know that we-we can still get past this and live together... as a family..." I trailed, not ignoring the stiff upper lip Sky was holding at my sentence. I definitely didn't let Mum's crouched, small body language go unnoticed either.

"You and me, family? That's something that can never happen!" Sky shouted, letting her eyes go wild and frantic at me. They were terrifying on such a small child.

"How do you know?" I asked. It was becoming irritable, all this talk and no explanation. Nothing felt right.

"Because of how you treated me in the attic," Sky said, stepping in front of Mum as I saw Mum try to raise her head in acknowledgment of the argument that was going on right before her eyes. As soon as Sky blocked her line of vision, I could see Mum's head bow down in obedience. This was not the Mum I knew.

"Sky, I was nervous about meeting you for the first time," I continued. "I didn't want to make any mistakes."

"Well you obviously did!" She snarled, all her childhood innocence from our video chats gone.

I looked behind her body and to my mother's: "Mum, please listen to me. Something has happened to all of you, and I don't know what," I explained, not really sure what I was talking about. "Please don't shut me out," I begged whilst feeling my throat start to block and choke up. I was about to cry.

Sky snickered. "Sarah-Jane won't listen to you, Luke." I could hear her spit my name out like it was vile. "She knows exactly who you are; a pathetic little alien who was grown from a laboratory to destroy the Earth. You would have, as well, if Sarah-Jane hadn't stopped you."

"We're not that different then, are we?" I said, trying hard to stop my blocked throat from showing.

Sky stopped smirking, letting her eyes glaze over with pure hatred for me. In that moment, I saw everything vanish in front of me, everything that I had worked for as a human being. Because in that moment, she broke my heart; Sarah-Jane broke my heart.

"Leave us," she muttered, tilting her head upwards to look me in the eye, small wafts of her full brown fringe shadowing her gaze.

"What?" I choked, feeling Sky's victory smile dance upon my skin as a betraying tear slid down my cheek.

"Leave us and don't ever come back," Sarah-Jane muttered again, her own voice sounding hoarse, conflicted. It didn't matter anymore, though. She'd made her decision that I was some kind of freak, an alien freak, who had no business in saving the world.

"You heard her," Sky interjected monotonously when I tried to but in.

The murky green leaves on the trees started to merge into one with the dull greys, whites and silvers from the rooftops of the buildings around us; the bright sunlight dazzled my spinning vision as the smells of this busy, gigantic planet all started to roll into one; I could feel my feet shake with the rotation of the Earth, fearing the tarmac might crack and engulf me in the pull of the Earth's movement. Everything was out of control: my senses, the surroundings, the people who I thought loved me. And I realised then that nothing was ever in my control, such as that moment. They all hated me, and I could never go back there.

So I turned, slowly and awkwardly, to my car, feeling nauseous at the sickeningly bright colour it was painted in. My palms began to sweat as I started the car's engine, visibly shaking by the time I turned the steering wheel to move out of the parking space I was in. I turned my head to watch both Sky and Sarah-Jane glare at me as I moved out, but then I saw Sky smile. She visibly chuckled by Sarah-Jane's side, flittering me a wave as everything came crashing down inside me.

They hated me, all of them.

Sky, Rani, Clyde... Sarah-Jane. Maybe even K-9 and Mr Smith hated me too.

I was a freak, someone who was grown. I was _grown_! I wasn't _human_! I'd never been normal like the rest of them; my genetically enhanced brain, superhuman senses and perfect health all proved to me I was a monster. If Sarah-Jane and Maria hadn't found me in the factory I would have destroyed the planet. I knew I would have. Mrs Wormwood would have taught me all the ways of the Bane, and I would have worked for her willingly until the human race was no more.

I would never be good in their eyes again.

I wasn't particularly interested in where my sense of direction would take me. I just accelerated when I needed to, broke when I had to and steered in any direction I wanted to. If anything, I was beginning to wonder whether it was the car driving me or me driving the car. I just wanted to get as far away as possible from Serf Systems and Bannerman Road as I could. It was one road after another and another until the car decided to turn off into a wooded area.

"Where am I?" I said, my chest still rattling from allowing tears to escape silently throughout the journey. I didn't recognise the area and all the trees were too thick and too close together for me to get barely a glance at the side of the road a metre away. It seemed quiet, too quiet for me, so I tried to perform a U-Turn back to Oxford, back to stability.

But the car wouldn't turn. Instead, it kept moving forward, turning when it needed to without crashing into numerous trees.

I panicked, repeatedly hitting the steering wheel with all the power I held. I tried to force it in the direction I wanted it to go in, but the wheel had a mind of its own as it guided the machine further and further into the desolate woods. I breathed heavily as claustrophobia set in and the speed picked up. I gasped as the car ran over a small log over the dirt road the car had decided to drive down. I fumbled for the door handle next to me, but the doors seemed to be locked too. Then, my seatbelt unclamped itself from its socket.

"No!" I screamed as the thick belt slid away from my body. Again, I tried to pull it back into place, but the belt jammed with every delicate touch I made. Everything in this car was against me, like I'd poisoned the planet into my enemy.

"Help!" I hollered whilst my fist pounded against the glass in a vain hope to smash my way through the car. There was no use; in the end my fist just stiffened in pain and turned a glowing shade of pink from where I'd hit the hardest.

The car continued to gain speed, becoming deadlier as the trees began to blur in my vision. All except one tree, however.

I could see it looming ahead, far too wide for the car to avoid. Yet, the car itself didn't want to avoid it. Instead, it welcomed the tree, allowing the bumper of the car to crash into it as if it had been after a hug. The entire front end of the car collided with the solid wood of the giant of a tree, and I felt the inside of my body jerk with the intense movement. All my organs became squished together into bright, white hot pain. It was so illuminating it blinded me, but my ears could still hear the screeching of the wheels protesting against the sudden stop, the howling of the engine as it smashed into smithereens. It could feel shards of glass penetrate my skin as my body flung out of its seat and into the trunk of the tree – that wouldn't have happened if the seatbelt hadn't wanted to kill me.

Then, everything got fainter and fainter once the calm had settled in. I could feel my entire body shutting down; I could feel every cell give up on the fight with was to live and to survive. Bones had been broken, flesh had been severed and blood had been spilt as shots of pain flared across my entire body as a sticky pool of warm liquid built up around my body.

I was fading.

The sun grew too bright above me as I watched the leaves sway with such peaceful motion.

I could feel my heart pounding its last few beats.

I could feel raw energy leaving me as every muscle in me became stiff and mixed, numb even.

Everything was fading.

Everything was gone.

There was nothing for me here on Earth anymore. Nothing at all.

The last thing I felt was a caressing touch brush my hair back as I slipped my eyes closed and I faded into an everlasting dream.

_Goodbye, Mum. I'll always love you, no matter what._

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**Reviews would be great and much appreciated.**

**I'll try to update sooner, I promise!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Yes, I am actually updating this regularly now, no long waits... hopefully. It depends on how busy I get. I originally wanted this chapter to be longer, but I thought the storyline I had in mind would be a bit boring, so here's chapter 4! Please let me know what you think of it.**

**Well, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from the Sarah Jane Adventures. I'm just playing with them for a bit.**

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"_Luke?"_

It was dark. Everything was incredibly dark... and painful. Everything was incredibly painful. My body felt like it had been ricocheted from the skies until I'd crashed down to the bottom of the ocean, where the pressure from the deep blue sea would crush my lungs until all the air had been squeezed out from me. Then my body felt like it had been flung from the depths of the cavernous ocean, where my freezing skin would tremble and shiver as howling winds whipped at it. My entire body felt like a war had raged on top of the skin, whilst the inside felt crushed and smashed beyond repair.

My mind felt empty, though. It was a place where I'd known the memories of my friends and my family. Now, all I had were useless pieces of information – facts and figures – which would never win back the hearts of those who once loved me, who I may have once loved myself. I didn't know whether I loved them anymore, whether I _could_ love them. I'd tried to make amends, but they pushed me away.

"_Luke?"_

It was in the darkness that their voices called to me. They sneered and laughed and jeered in my direction, calling me 'freak', 'know-it-all' and 'easily replaced'. At one stage, I saw their faces, clouded and misty in the darkness but it was definitely them. They were smirking, snorting in derision as I pleaded and begged for mercy. Their voices: please _no_! Their _voices_! They were sadistic, dripping in hatred at the mere sight of me! My mind was crumbling at the foundations; all I wanted to do was scream so loudly for help until _someone_ helped me... anyone...

_Please! Can anyone hear me! Please, I can't do this anymore... I can't..._

Then, the cold ocean covering my skin turned dry and warm, shielding me from the onslaught of the wind until the battering air ceased. The film of water I thought was shielding my body turned into smooth fabric, wrapping me snug while I began to feel sheets in between the fingers of my right hand. My left hand, however, was slightly raised and far warmer than the rest of my body, clutched in the grip of another warm object. The surface below me felt soft and springy, even though I couldn't make myself move to test that theory.

Then things became... weird: something large was stuffed down my throat, something that was both uninviting and extremely welcoming at the same time as it pumped air inside me – it did make me gag, though, and I thought I would choke if the oxygen it was feeding me stopped; I could feel annoying things tugging underneath my skin on my hands and cold wires sometimes brushing against my chest underneath a thin, paper, long-top of some kind; high pitched beeping ran unanimously with my heartbeat that droned in my ears. I could feel myself return back to reality.

"Luke?"

The voice. It wasn't Sarah-Jane, or Sky, or Rani, or Clyde. It was familiar, sending sparks of fear down my spine that became fuelled by the choking feeling from the tube down my throat. Why did I recognise it? I couldn't move.

"Luke? Are you okay? Are you waking up?" The voice asked, sincerity apparent in her tone.

It was definitely a woman: her voice was too youthful to be that of an elderly person, but was mature enough to rule out a young girl or a teenager. Definitely a woman, a woman who I knew... I wished that my brain could work quicker.

"Luke, I can feel you moving, are you okay?" She continued to ask, a tremble apparent.

"Hmm," I groaned, slightly shaking the numbness away in my head so I could think clearly. Why couldn't I recognise her?

"Luke!" The woman called.

Then I realised why I remembered her: she was the person I had been trying to forget for a long, long time now.

Mrs Wormwood.

"Hng," I started, but realised the tube was blocking all forms of speech. The machine that controlled the beeping increased rapidly as panic set in my veins. I could only struggle underneath the sheets.

"Hey, it's okay. I'll get that out," Mrs Wormwood said gently. I let her let go of my hand and take care of the thing that had been put inside me to keep me breathing. Wait, why did I need it anyway? It's a natural instinct to be able to breathe whilst unconscious, why would I need a machine to help keep me alive?

Oh – the crash. I remembered seeing the bright yellow bumper of the car fold in on itself as the tree suddenly halted all the momentum that the speed of the car had built. I remembered losing control of the acceleration and the steering of the car, feeling the safety of the seat belt slide away. I remembered my body being flung through the glass that shattered, and dug and scraped into the pores of my skin. I remembered everything, the pain and the searing slashes across my body, how I could barely eyes open from the blinding light of the sun, how battered and misshapen my body felt and how everything grew numb until I thought I'd faded away into nothing.

What was going on? Why was visiting me in hospital? Was I even in hospital? Did Sarah-Jane know about this?

Did she even care?

I pushed those thoughts away from me as the sickly tube was removed from my mouth, the feeling of flowing air being sucked in under my own command made me temporarily forget my own problems until I managed to look up to Mrs Wormwood's gentle smile. She propped herself back into her seat, clasping her hands together, and waited for me catch my breath.

I stared at her with wide eyes, shocked and slightly terrified to see her so close to me while I felt so weak.

"Why are you here?" I choked out, nearly spluttering the last word.

Mrs Wormwood remained calm, keeping her serene smile. "Really, Luke, that's the first question you want to ask."

"It's the only one I deem important," I replied with a hoarse voice.

Mrs Wormwood chuckled at my sentence. "It's good to know you haven't lost your capability of speech," she remarked.

I swallowed down my nerves, hoping my throat wouldn't be so dry. "Why are you here," I repeated.

"Okay," she sighed, readying her position to explain. "I've been watching you from aback, Luke. I didn't want to interfere with your life, approach you in anyway, until I thought you would be ready to see me again. I've only been on Earth for a few months – the escape from the alternate dimension took a long time and weakened me extremely so – and I've only ever seen you at Oxford. Your work there is unparalleled, but I could see how happy you were there so I thought I should leave you alone to live your life without me walking in a spoiling it.

"Then, I began to watch Sarah-Jane and those friends of yours, Clyde and Rani. They all seemed to miss you terribly, but I could see how they continued the life they led before, saving this precious planet as best they could. I noticed how your video calls between everyone grew less, few and far between, and I felt... disappointed."

I narrowed my expression, trying to take in everything – Mrs Wormwood had, effectively, been stalking me and Sarah-Jane for months. It was definitely beginning to freak me out, considering everything I'd learnt about the behaviour of a typical human stalker and how society had grown to fear them. I felt like a rag doll in a dog kennel; she would only have to start to play with me until I became a shredded, tattered form of myself if that side of her suddenly became... alive.

"Then Sky turned up. I could see how she enhanced Sarah-Jane's life now that you were gone, and Clyde and Rani seemed to get along together better with another person to watch over and protect. Another person they could help teach. Sarah-Jane seemed more in comfort now that she had a girl instead of boy," she continued. "Then I saw how horribly they were acting to you when you showed up back to Bannerman Road. I thought you could sort it out, so I left you to your own devices until my scanner alerted me that your car was driving towards a desolate forest.

"I found the wreckage, but I knew you couldn't stay in a normal hospital, or they might find out about you," she said, raising a hand to gesture my gaze towards the room.

I returned my sight back to her whilst she looked around the room for a second: she was wearing a delicate green dress which highlighted her summer-red hair. She'd pinned her bright hair into a makeshift bun to the side of her head, some strands trailing down her neck. She was paler than the average human, and didn't seem to be wearing any make-up shown on human advertisements. She looked tired, really, like she'd been up for days on end, but if her fatigue hadn't of shown so easily on her human façade, I would have mistaken her to be pretty, I supposed.

"Do you know what this place is?" She asked as she returned her hands to her lap.

Slight dizziness tumbled my ears as I shook my head too vigorously.

She continued on: "Well, Luke, this is my... home, I suppose. I found this building abandoned, disused, and I had nowhere else to go. I created a space for myself, somewhere I could live while I left your life alone and this world has some surprises, I can tell you."

She was drifting into monologue, but I listened intently. Who else could I listen to?

"When I found, I didn't know what to do, so I brought you here. I knew a mere bed would not sustain or help your condition, so I sought out all the medical equipment this planet could offer me that would help you recover. Once I did, I hooked you up, changing where the machinery was on your body as I learnt more about what was keeping you alive."

"Wait, are you saying you stole this stuff?" I questioned, my eyes glazing with worry: what if someone out there was dying because of her actions?

"Yes, I did steal it, but the equipment was not being used by anyone, I made sure of it," she answered composedly.

I straightened my back. "But someone could have been involved in a crash or something, and could be needing this exact equipment right now and-"

"Luke, calm down," Mrs Wormwood said, getting up from her seat to push me gently back against the pillow of the bed. "I made sure no one would need it. I placed an order for a set of this equipment on the hospital board; I knew you would have reacted this way once you knew."

I gaped. I may not have been able to see my own face, but Mrs Wormwood's reaction to my expression told me everything. She was smiling, resigning herself back into her chair as I calmed myself down.

"I know. You weren't expecting that, were you," she said, not expecting an answer.

"Sorry, I-I just didn't think you would do that for me. I didn't think you could even do anything like that for me," I said.

Mrs Wormwood just smirked hesitantly and shrunk her body down until her entire position was squished into the chair. If I hadn't been in so much pain in that bed I may have felt sympathy for how uncomfortable she may have felt in that sunken state, but I didn't. All I could feel was the burning of my lungs, the compression in my chest that made me feel like my body was going to collapse and the dizzying motion playing out in my head.

"It's okay, Luke," she said. "Just know that I would do anything for you," she almost muttered.

I nodded, snapping my eyes shut as new pain flared down the side of my waist. The whole notion of reality was spinning inside my head, and I felt so nauseous; I had to throw up.

"Luke, are you okay?" Mrs Wormwood called, her voice only a faint whisper something dark and looming graced my vision. The spots where all the needles and IV plugs were pinned into my body became beacons of pain as my eyes fluttered open and closed, trying to find a way to relieve myself of this pain.

"I'm going to put you under, okay? Luke, can you hear me?" She said again, fainter. I was drifting. "Luke, please answer me!" Inside the ghosting whisper, I heard her voice shrill into panic.

My vision turned dark, but I was confused whether it my own eyes turning down the brightness in the pale white room or whether it was Mrs Wormwood's shadow crossing my body as she reached for something above my head. Then, a soothing, numbing feelings spread across my left arm, then my right arm, chasing into my chest as pain frantically motioned in every beat of my heart.

"Just please don't fall asleep for three weeks like you did after the crash," I hear Mrs Wormwood whisper as I shut my eyes close and gave in to the sentient chemical which had driven my body to slumber.

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**Reviews are welcome!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I hope you guys enjoyed your Christmas! I told myself I would update on time for Christmas so I could give you a nice present, but I got ill the week before Christmas and the whole holiday season has just been incredibly busy for me. But things have relaxed and I feel well enough to give you a New Years present instead! Here's Chapter 5. I must remind that I write without a beta, so excuse me for any mistakes.**

**Enjoy!**

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A week had passed in the room. I'd been confined to the wires and the repetitive bleeping that told me I was alive by Mrs Wormwood, who insisted I stay in bed to rest. I may have been the perfect human, but that did not change the fact that it usually took weeks, maybe in even months, for people to properly heal from events like mine. My breathing had gotten better after I became used to not feeling the marks in my throat that the breathing tube had left, but the inside of my body still felt shattered – not necessarily the physical side to my human physiology.

My mind had betrayed my body, if I were to be honest with myself. The voices of those I once cared for had begun to plague my dreams of nothingness, considering that was how I was genetically programmed; I never had dreams. Or nightmares and, the realisation that Sarah-Jane's – no, _her_ voice – could fill the peaceful void in my mind just as monstrously as the Nightmare Man could, scared me enough to stop sleeping altogether. Mrs Wormwood noticed. She couldn't really avoid my sleeping habits considering my body was beginning to slow down in healing my injuries, and she repeatedly nagged me into sleeping. Just a couple of nights ago, she slipped sleeping drugs in one of my drinks before night descended, and I fell into slumber.

It just made the nightmares worse.

I remembered it clearly. Everyone who had betrayed me stood over me, anger glowing in their eyes, hatred apparent in their physique, and I thought they were going to... to... no. I didn't want to remember those images. Normally though, whenever a nightmare like this occurred, I could wake myself up from it and tear myself away from the horrors they forced upon me, but the drugs made this impossible. I was trapped in the nightmare until I thought it was real. Until I thought the pain they made me feel was reality.

In the morning, I sluggishly forced myself away from the terrible dreams in my head and into what was the _real_ reality. I woke to find myself being watched by a worried Mrs Wormwood, whose hands were gripped tightly together below her chin, her back slouched. She looked weary and tired, like she'd been up all night.

It turned out she had: she'd heard me call out during the night and checked on me, only to find my body convulsing on top of the bed covers. She thought I was having a fit, originally, but she later worked out I was having a bad nightmare. She told me how I was fitfully mumbling things like '_please, Sarah-Jane, no!_' and '_why did you do it, Sky?_' and '_please, stop! Why are doing this?_' over again until the drugs had worn off.

I told her my dream – nightmare – until I felt like a shameful monster. Mrs Wormwood said she would stay with me for as long as possible, but she had something to see too. I didn't question it at the time, but I wanted her to stay. It had felt good to talk to her, to do something instead of just sitting in that bed all day long with nothing to do apart from relive the horrors of the past month and analyse them until I had no memories left to unfold. I was running out of answers. Mrs Wormwood said she'd leave me something to watch until she returned.

She didn't return for another day.

She left the movie '_Thor_' for me to watch. I didn't particularly want to watch a movie based on Norse Mythology, but, in actuality, I found myself quite intrigued with the whole story. The first time I watched the movie, I was just in awe of everything that happened and just let myself enjoy the movie. After a few hours of watching it the first time, I allowed myself to grow bored, so I played it again, concentrating on how Thor became who he was by the end of it. Instead of being a brash war-hungry soldier, he grew into someone worthy of ruling Asgard because he had learned to think before his actions. Being on Earth had changed him for the better.

Then, I let myself try to sleep as the hours crept by. Again, however, I was thrown into a nightmare more frightening than the last.

Inside the walls of my head, I was back in the forest, back in the car. I was in the passenger seat this time, Sarah-Jane driving with Sky, Rani and Clyde in the back seats. They were all laughing constantly, including me, even though I had no idea what we were laughing about. There were no words for a long time. Then, I turned around to join in with my friends, only to be greeted with a sour look from Sky.

"What are you looking at me for?" She snarled. Rani and Clyde were still laughing with Sarah-Jane, oblivious. "You don't deserve to ruin our lives, let alone when we're having fun!"

My tongue was paralysed and my vocal chords had been silenced. I had no voice to argue with. Clyde's booming laughter then dissipated to silence, the same expression that Sky held dominating his own features.

"Yeah, you're nothing more than an alien freak! You don't belong on this planet!" He shouted at me, startling my entire body. Next to him, Sky began to chuckle, darkness lurking in between every noise she made.

Next to Clyde, right near the window, Rani's laughter began to turn down like music on a stereo. "I can't believe I was ever friends with you!" She spat, just as venomously as real life. I thought the dream was real for a second, but tried to push that thought away.

I only returned back to the world when Sarah-Jane stopped laughing, using silence as words. She drove and drove in the same route the car took before, crashing into the trees just as before. The last thing I saw in the car was everyone walking out of the wreckage, no cuts, no bruises and no broken bones to show where they had been. I was on the edge of death – or I thought I was at least. They ran off, jumping and skipping into the growing darkness of the woods. It was the last thing I saw in the dream before I woke up.

I played Thor for the third time then, determined to focus my mind on anything _but_ the nightmare I had. This time, I concentrated more the brother's storyline, Loki. Why did he become who he was? I knew about the Frost Giants and his original parentage from all the scenes leading up to the finale, but I hadn't really thought about them... in a way, Loki and I were similar. We were similar in the sense that we were not from the race we thought we were: Loki was a Frost Giant at birth, brought up as an Asgardian. I may be human, but I was grown, not born, and grown by aliens for that matter.

Another similarity was that we had powers or strengths that the rest of the race we thought we belonged to had: Loki had the powers from his original Frost Giant race mixed with the magic he taught himself, not the strength of the Asgardians. I held the memory of 10,000 human beings, something no other human could even dream of owning.

But here was the main similarity: we had both been betrayed. We both led lives that we were happy living in and growing up in, having a family that loved us and friends who would fight with us. We would protect each other's home planet (or realm, for Asgard's case) but strive to live as normal a life as possible. That was until our families were separated and changed. I moved to Oxford, opening the change in direction for my own family, and Thor had been cast out in Loki's family. When Sky came into my family, I questioned myself repeatedly, like whether I had ever been good enough for Sarah-Jane because she had managed to replace me. Loki questioned himself because he felt he wasn't good enough for anyone, not good enough for the race he was born into and left to die in or the race who took him in and only gave him second best. It was both strange but relaxing when I figured how Loki and I were similar.

Not that I wanted to become Sarah-Jane's enemy. No, she was too formidable a person to go up against and part of me, however deep inside of me, still loved her. Love like that could not have been so quickly forgotten and I knew that, sadly. The scars on my heart left by her were still there, but I hoped they would fade, given time. It would be better for everyone.

After I'd finished the movie for the third time, I decided to test my ability to walk. I knew I wasn't supposed to, but I could feel my legs begging me to move. Carefully, I slowly bent my knees, bringing up my limbs until they were in an upside-down 'V' position whilst my back stayed firmly on the mattress of the bed. It felt so good to just move my legs, but then the pain from the crack in my left leg suddenly erupted. In a split-second, my body swapped positions, with my legs going back to the position they'd been forced to lie in for the past week and the core of my body sitting at a right angle. My hands caressed the sore spot in my leg until the pain died down enough for me rest my back on the soft mattress.

In a way, I was glad that I had moved it. My mind had become more preoccupied with tending to the blistering pain that was radiating from the leg rather than opening the memories that threatened to render my mind useless. I slept the best night of sleep out of the whole week, surprisingly.

Mrs Wormwood had finished whatever 'business' she'd been attending to, and she had greeted me with breakfast once I had woken up.

"Really? Eggs and bacon... are you sure I'm ready for such food?" I asked cautiously. Throughout the entire week since I had woken up, the only food I was allowed to eat was anything soft that could be mashed up, or soft oats with milk and, finally, water. My stomach had literally been incapable of taking anything other than these foods, as we both had found out the first time Mrs Wormwood had tried to feed me. "Do remember what happened the last time I tried solid food?"

Mrs Wormwood chuckled slightly. "Yes, I do remember indeed. Don't worry; I checked human medical journals and determined that a week of allowing your stomach to take in soft foods would be just enough time to introduce more solid, richer foods. Apparently, a favourite amongst most patients is bacon, and eggs are usually accompanied with the ingredient so I fixed it up for you," she explained as she handed me the plate. A small part inside of me remembered when Sarah-Jane (no, _she_ – I really had to get used to calling her that if I were to get better) had first set fire to the kitchen when trying to make scrambled eggs, but I distanced that thought away from me.

"Well, it smells delicious," I said.

"I also brought you a glass of, what the humans call, orange juice. Again, it is popular amongst patients recovering and it also seems to include something called 'Vitamin C' which I have learnt is good for the immune system in your stomach. It's apparently a good thing, so I thought I could allow it as part of you breakfast," she continued, popping the glass on the table next to my bed.

I dug in to meal set before me, relishing the moment of being able to finally taste good food. The crispy texture of the bacon was so much better than the feeling of the food I'd been given for the past week. I felt re-awakened with each bite of the salty rashers. The eggs tasted good too, but they reminded me too much of how the mushy food had felt before. They tasted so much better, though. It felt like the first time I had been able to stretch my legs, how the release of the stiff muscles had given me a sense of relief, but at least the food didn't make me want to cry out in pain. No, it made me want to cry out in joy!

I finished the plate and the juice – it matched perfectly with the breakfast – in just under ten minutes, savouring every bite. Mrs Wormwood had used those ten minutes to catch up on reading a book that appeared to have a blank cover, but it didn't bother me. I was too busy enjoying the delights of my first proper breakfast in a while.

The metal cutlery clunked along the surface of the plate, announcing the end of my meal. Mrs Wormwood stopped reading her blank book and began to clear away the dishes, resting her book along the coffee table that had been positioned near the 'visitors' chair. Mrs Wormwood was only the ever visitor in this place – no one actually knew where I was apart from her.

In my curiosity of wondering what could possibly be written in a blank book, I waited until Mrs Wormwood had left the room so I could lean over a catch a glimpse of what may have been written as the title. I'd seen a few books in _her_ collection that had blank covers, with just titles, but those had been old books _she_ had collected as a child. I had read them a few times to vary the types of books I read, as they were mainly fairy stories of some kind. My favourite had been 'Pinocchio'.

The coffee table was placed just a little too far out of my reach, so I couldn't really see what had been written as the title from just leaning over the bed a little. So I tried again, leaning a little further over the bedspread to see the front cover. This time, I managed to see a slight shimmer of gold patterning the book. I, again, remembered _her_ books having gold or silver foil filling the words of the titles of the books _she_ owned, so I immediately guessed Mrs Wormwood was reading a story from this planet. Possibly a children's book too. However, the closer I looked, the more I got wrong.

It was definitely not a children's book. It wasn't even a book from this planet. My hands gripped the bars that lined the bed as I felt my body begin to slide off the bed, but I kept on leaning. It wasn't written in English, nor any other language of this planet. At first, I thought it may have been written in French, thinking I could see the word 'même' written on the title, meaning 'same', but it wasn't. Then, I thought it may have been written in Russian as I identified square lettering not seen in both the English and French language. I was wrong again. I didn't recognise the language at all – it was definitely alien.

I leaned further and further until I fell off the bed. What a mistake that had been. Pain suddenly bloomed in my chest and exploded again from leg, reminding me painfully of the night before. Clutching my broken ribs and clasping my cracked left leg as I fell, I tried to breath steadily and evenly, but was left to no avail. I let out pained moans as a feeling like fire spread throughout my body. Breathing heavily, I scrunched my face in pain. I raised my arms and allowed my hands to fumble for the bars along the bed, but my body couldn't support the weight without producing further pain. In the end, I just let myself slip onto the floor, tears welling in my eyes. Why did I have to be so useless at everything?

"Luke?" Mrs Wormwood called as she returned to the room. "Luke, what happened in here?" In the distance, I could hear her heels clanking heavily but quickly against the floor. I groaned and winced as she tried to get me back onto the bed, feeling my ribs move painfully near my diaphragm.

"I don't know," I lied. "I-I was just trying to stretch my body after breakfast, and I just fell," I continued.

Mrs Wormwood eyed me carefully. In an instance, I thought she'd seen through my lie, but she was just worried. "There's a reason I told you not to get out of bed or move about, Luke," she said, gently stroking my hair as I finally managed to settle back down into bed. "You're lucky," she said. "It could have been a lot worse," she explained as she undid the bandages she had wrapped around my chest. I grunted at the loosening of my ribcage, but that feeling faded when I saw my chest area.

Bruises adorned my skin in all shades of black, blue, purple and yellow, like an abstract painting. The parts of my skin where the colour looked darkest were the areas where my body felt the most in pain, and I knew the ribs there had been broken. I raised my right hand and allowed my index finger to lightly touch the bruised skin, flinching at the pain the touches brought.

"You're skin is still healing. I wouldn't be surprised if it was sensitive," Mrs Wormwood informed me as she prepared a new set of bandages. "Sit up straight, please. I wouldn't want to bandage you slouched," she instructed.

I followed her orders and allowed her to wrap me up with a new set of bandage material, careful not to make a sound as she tried to help me. I didn't want to make her feel guilty after all she had done for me. We remained silent for most of the time until a thought occurred to me.

"Mrs Wormwood?" I started.

She continued wrapping the bandages. "Yes, Luke."

"What were you reading in that book over there?" I asked.

She wrapped the bandages just a little slower. "It's just a book about other worlds and other species of alien," she said. "If you knew the language of the Bane, you might be able to read it."

"But I don't," I said sharply, finally in the knowledge of the mysterious language used for the title.

"You never know," she said. "Maybe I'll teach you it one day."

"I don't think I'd be able to read the book after just one day of learning the Bane language," I laughed.

Mrs Wormwood laughed too, looking back at me with warm eyes. "Okay then, we'll make it two days."

She finished up wrapping the bandages across my chest, and I felt the effects of having a properly secure chest almost instantly. It felt much better than having it loose. Mrs Wormwood ruffled my hair and packed away her equipment.

"I'm guessing you'll be wanting some rest after this troublesome morning," she suggested with a smile.

"Of course," I said, settling back down on the bed.

In the corner of my eye, I watched Mrs Wormwood gather up her book, written in the language of the Bane, and saw her walk away to the door in the room.

"Thank you," I called out nervously. Mrs Wormwood stopped herself in her tracks just before her hand reached the handle of the door. "Thank you for everything. I really don't deserve it, but I'm glad you're here to help me," I said as I played mindlessly with the bedding.

She turned her frame around to face me, smiling warmly. "You're welcome," she replied. With that, she turned back around to the door and left the room to my own thoughts.

_Maybe I'm not like Loki_, I thought to myself. _Maybe the race I was born into does want me_, I continued, letting my thoughts drift as my face formed a smile.

It was the second time in a row I had peaceful sleep.

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**Reviews are welcome.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Yeah, I couldn't help myself with the whole Loki thing last chapter because my Tom Hiddleston and Loki feels were everywhere when I writing it... Anyway, I think the exciting stuff will be coming up soon and I know you're all eager for that stuff. I've been meaning to update sooner, but stuff got in the way.**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer (for Chapters 5 and 6): I don't own any of the Sarah Jane Adventures characters. The BBC owns them.**

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A couple more weeks had passed. I had found that I was able to walk by myself. Well, not entirely – I still needed the help of crutches whenever I wanted to travel distances further than the visiting chairs.

Mrs Wormwood had been very careful when helping me learn to walk. She had re-done the cast to make sure that the bone could still heal properly underneath the strain of my body weight, but I assured her that this would be good for my legs. I'd seen many people over my life on Earth who had been required to keep their legs moving so that the muscles could grow stronger, otherwise they'd waste away.

I didn't particularly want my legs to waste away to sticks, not after all the effort I'd gone through to make sure I could get better.

The cycle of breakfast continued over the weeks of walking: Mrs Wormwood would come in and serve me a hot plate of eggs and bacon, although toast with butter had been an added surprise. Along with the toast, Mrs Wormwood had decided to treat me with other flavours of juice, such as Apple, Pineapple and Mango flavours, to go with my meal as well as orange juice.

Lunch and dinner had also been prepared by Mrs Wormwood. She'd started out with small portions of simple foods, such as tomato soup for lunch and macaroni and cheese for dinner, but gradually increased my portion sizes as the days drove on by. The quality of the meals had also increased; soon, I was eating large sandwiches with an assortment of fillings and dinners from different cultures around the world. It proved to me that my stomach was getting on the mend if I was eating such rich foods without throwing up. Mrs Wormwood had got them just right.

Learning to walk was proving much more difficult than eating better food, however. So far, my right leg had managed to carry me to the visitor chairs on its own without any help from my broken left leg, but I wanted to go further. I started hopping from one end of the room to the other; being careful to take it slow the first few times I had tried it.

That was the day Mrs Wormwood brought in the crutches. Unfortunately, my right leg hadn't been able to keep up with the endless hopping all day. I'd collapsed just before I reached the white wall opposite my bedspread, and Mrs Wormwood was on the verge of telling me off if it wasn't the fact that she wasn't my...

_No, Luke, don't think that. She was the enemy, remember? She once tried to destroy the world, tried to destroy your friends just because they were standing in her way and wouldn't let you go._

_But things are different now._

Things were definitely different now. Mrs Wormwood was no longer my enemy. In fact, she was my saviour whilst the people I had thought were my friends and family, the people I'd thought I loved, had hurt me beyond comprehension. They may not have been responsible for the car going out of control, but they were responsible for making me feel so hurt, so dead inside. They crushed me that day, but Mrs Wormwood showed no signs of hostility.

The crutches Mrs Wormwood had gotten me helped me immensely when I was re-learning how to walk. All I had to do was press the two bars on the floor to propel my body forwards, letting my weight rest on my right leg whilst my left leg hung in mid air during my journey.

I took to exploring every inch of my bedroom, having been confined to my bed each and every day. I sat in the visitor chairs, imagining how Mrs Wormwood must have seen me whenever I lay in bed. Next to the chairs, which were surprisingly comfortable to sit in, was the table Mrs Wormwood put my drinks every time I ate a meal. There was nothing extraordinary about it – it was just a plain, ordinary table that held a few marks from where juice may have dripped down the rim of the glass and onto the wooden surface.

Bored, I took to looking at the walls on the other side of the room. They were about just under twice the size of me, high for simple walls in a room, and were painted completely white. A window took up most of the wall on the right side of my bed, but you could barely see anything outside of it. There were a few plants (in such condition that even Gita would have been proud to call them her own) just outside the bottom of the glass, but only bare landscape outside of that was visible.

The landscape in question was bleak and slightly dusty-looking. The sky overhead was overcast, typical of the British weather, but nothing other than derelict buildings that seemed too far away to hold any life. There did seem to be barbed wire fence encasing the building I was in, however, but a quick glance to the left of the window revealed to me two metal gates that were slightly ajar.

At least I had an idea of where I was now.

A few hours passed that day, and Mrs Wormwood came to inform me she would be leaving on account for her 'business' again.

"I'm confused, what is this business about?" I asked.

Mrs Wormwood paused by the door for a second before answering me. "It's nothing really."

"If it's nothing, you can explain it to me," I replied nonchalantly.

Another pause.

"It's just a research trip to the human world. From it, I learn a little bit more about the culture you live in and what kind of things you like. That's how I've been able to learn about the different foods human cook and how to treat your injuries," she explained.

"You could always ask me what kind of things I would like to eat if you wanted to shorten your trips," I offered, hoping that she wouldn't be gone for too long again today.

She smiled. "Thank you for your kind offer, Luke, but there are things in this world that I must learn for myself." She turned slowly, closing the door behind her as she left the building. Gliding quickly to the window, I watched forlornly as she exited through the two metal gates. Tonight was going to be a long night.

* * *

_I can't stay in this room forever,_ I said to myself later that evening. Not only was I growing bored, but I was growing hungry, too. Mrs Wormwood hadn't left me any food to eat for dinner before she'd left for her 'business', and I wasn't intent on starving myself just because she'd forgotten to give me my meals. I was perfectly capable of cooking for myself, especially after going to University.

Gathering my crutches, I made my way to the green door that had only ever been touched by Mrs Wormwood and made my way into the unknown.

Immediately, I felt strangely out of place. The room I had been staying in seemed like heaven compared to the hallway that lay just a few feet from my bed. I remember Mrs Wormwood telling me this place was derelict and abandoned, but I hadn't been prepared for _this_.

A cluster of pipes ran a straggled pathway across the immensely high ceiling, with tears and crusts of red rust rimming the hollow metal pipes that once may have contained water or gas. The ceiling the pipes occupied was riddled with dusty spider-webs that spanned across the entire span of the ceiling, small beads of dirty water reflecting off the silk from what I could identify from such a height.

Old machinery lined the walls, littered in even more dust than the spider-webs, caking the tops of disused electrical equipment like icing. Dials lay dead in their small glass cases next to dark squares of coloured glass, which may have once been lights. Large keyboards sat at the bottom of each box that was set in the wall; they were dirty and grimy, as mud and black smears of dirt mixed together on each key. I dared not to touch it.

I tried not to think about the floor, too. My bare feet instantly turned cold as my toes stepped outside my room. The floor itself felt like how I imagined the keyboards to feel: sticky, slimy and bitterly cold, and I was beginning to wonder how I was going to explain why my feet were so messy when Mrs Wormwood got back. I quickly made a mental note to ask for a pair of shoes for her next 'business' trip.

For the meantime, however, I began my search for the kitchen – or a room that might by hygienic enough to store food.

I started off by wandering around the grand (but horrendously dirty) hallways and corridors that seemed to run forever in the warehouse. Trying to hobble on one foot and two crutches wasn't doing me any favours either. After walking the first three corridors from my room, I'd already nearly lost my balance at least five times from letting my crutches slip on the grip-less ground below me. I was started wonder how I was going to explain why a _lot_ of things were getting messy to Mrs Wormwood. She would not be pleased with my dirty crutches.

After performing a full circle around the warehouse, I returned to the light green door that symbolised cleanliness and sleep: my room. As soon as I turned the last corner, catching the door colour in the corner of my eye, my mind instantly made a bee-line towards my room, but my stomach growled in protest.

_Damn,_ I thought to myself. _I really need to find this kitchen._

I returned to my wandering, but looked closely at everything this time, hoping for a sign or a direction that pointed to the kitchen. Or possibly the toilet – I had been walking for rather a long time now without the comfort of knowing that I didn't have to leave my room to find a bathroom. I was tempted to follow my trail in the dirt back to my room to relieve myself, but decided against it. I knew I'd end up falling asleep on my bed if I caught even just a glimpse of it. All this walking was really tiring me.

Nevertheless, I carried on.

All the doors I'd tried throughout my search all appeared to be locked. Every time I shook one of the dusty doorknobs on every dirty egg-white door I could see, I found that none of them would budge. One of the doorknobs even fell off at one point when my frustration took over and I rattled the doorknob a bit too hard.

My stomach rumbled again in despair.

"I just want some food," I whispered to myself, my voice wavering in slight anger at my failure. Softly, I pressed my head against the wall, feeling fatigue rise in my veins. Wearily, I turned my body so that my back was pressing against the wall, allowing me to roll my head up and close my eyes in peace. Quietly, I tried to listen to the sounds of the outside world I'd grown so used to: the soft chirping of the birds that used to live on the tree outside my bedroom window; the hum of the engines of different cars that I used to watch drive by on the way to school; the roar of the planes high above in the sky that used to distract Clyde hugely when in Science; the ever-present laughs and smiles that I used to join in with every day.

All I could hear was silence. The old soundtrack to my life was gone. All I could listen to now was the tapping of my crutches against the floors as I learnt to walk, my own breathing as I lay bored without the presence of Mrs Wormwood and, when she was in to see me, the small, light chatter about different human cultures that we both had learnt about on our time on Earth. I, of course, knew more than she did, but she forever trying to challenge me by learning the rarest facts the Earth had to offer. It was a balm to the loss of the music of my past.

I re-opened my eyes and sighed. I needed to get back to my room before Mrs Wormwood returned, and perhaps find myself a change of clothes.

It was in that moment I spotted something in the distance: a very dull, very dirty, red door. Curiosity replacing the fatigue in my body, I made my way over to the door, finding it strange how I hadn't noticed it before. A red door in a black and white building was like looking at the sun on a cloudy day, and it brought me the tiniest bit of hope. Maybe Mrs Wormwood needed it red so that she could remember which door led to the kitchen. Whatever her reasons, I was determined to investigate it.

I hung my hand slowly over the doorknob, noticing how clean and used it look compared to the other doorknobs I'd been furiously investigating throughout the day. My belly begged me to stop hesitating and just open the door, so I did just that.

Only to find the door was locked.

Why would Mrs Wormwood lock the kitchen door? Was she afraid of rats getting in (a fear that had been hanging down my spine all day)? That would be if rats had suddenly evolved into walking animals that were tall enough or clever enough to reach the doorknob and yank the door open, which was entirely impossible. Unless those rats were alien, of course, which I deemed as improbable. I would have thought Mrs Wormwood would have told me about alien rats in the warehouse. Was it even a kitchen at all?

What did she want to keep in the red-door room?

My stomach deflating in defeat from a simple lock, I made my way back to my room. My entire body felt slack and in desperate need of food and sleep, but I knew I would either be getting one or the other without Mrs Wormwood. My head knew that I would survive longer with sleep, so I mindlessly followed my own trail back to my room.

Thoughts were dripping into my head with each step. What could be in that room? Why would Mrs Wormwood leave it locked? Why was it the only red door in the entire warehouse? I was trying to come up with every solution I could. I started to think about whether it was part of her project on learning about Earth, or her 'business'. That would explain a little bit about why she wanted it secret, but she knew that I would know the exact same things she would be researching, so why leave it locked? The back of my head started to wonder whether she was researching... other things, that the real object of her research was not the story she told me.

That would explain why she left the room so abruptly. And why she paused each time I asked her about it.

Doubt crept into my newfound trust for Mrs Wormwood.

How did she know where to find me _exactly_ where I crashed? In fact, why did she feel the need to follow Sarah-Jane and me anyway? It wasn't because she didn't want to drop in on my life until she knew I was ready and she knew that; why would I have wanted to see Mrs Wormwood when I was with Sarah-Jane?

Was this all a ruse, all an act to get me to like her?

God, what was happening?

_It's just a door, Luke, you have no idea what could be behind it_, I told myself. But wasn't that it; the uncertainty and the fear that everything could be a lie?

Sometimes, I wished humanity could be much simpler.

I turned the last dirty corner to the hallway that my room was set upon. I walked carelessly to my door, turning a finally clean doorknob to open the entryway to my room.

There, sat with her back facing the doorway was Mrs Wormwood, clad in her usual purple fabric that hung over her hair, covering a newly bought long black dress that covered most parts of her body. It was another part of her research, to purchase human clothes.

_But it might be an act!_ The darker parts of my head screamed at me. I shook the voice away and quietly shut the door, clanking my crutches along the floor. When Mrs Wormwood spoke, her voice trembled.

"Where have you been, Luke?"

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**What could Mrs Wormwood possibly be hiding in that red-door room? Reviews are much appreciated!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey, guys! I'm so sorry with how long it's taken me to write this... been studying for exams and stuff, but I'm really happy with the response from the last chapter. Your reviews really do make my day! I was actually going to go with a completely different storyline for this chapter, but I couldn't help myself with the way it turned out.**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters on the Sarah Jane Adventures. They belong to the BBC.**

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"Well, Luke? Answer me."

In an instant, dread poured into my veins. My crutches shook slightly as my arms tried to push them into the ground out of pure fear, but my mouth did not want to move to defend myself. No sound escaped my lips, not even a crude lie. If I were to remain looking as dumbfounded as I did, Mrs Wormwood would have been able to read me like a book. So, instead, I managed to put some momentum on the force I was crushing my crutches with and pushed myself to sit on the bed, facing away slightly from Mrs Wormwood.

"Luke," she continued. "I've been worried sick," she said, finally turning her body around to look at me with intrusive eyes.

"I... I haven't been anywhere," I stuttered.

Mrs Wormwood looked at me incredulously. "Really, Luke, where have you been?"

What was I supposed to say? I couldn't tell her the truth but I knew how terrible a liar I was, especially now that she'd seen how shocked I'd been when I saw her sitting in my room. There was only so much I could evade.

"Okay. When you left me, I got... really hungry." _Yes,_ I mused. _I can play this._ "And I didn't know where the kitchen was, so I'd been walking around this place for hours trying to find the kitchen, but I could never find the right door. They all seemed to be locked," I said, not needing to lie but not needing to tell everything.

"Then why have you only just returned now, at such a late hour?" She pried.

I swallowed thickly. "Well, I wanted to wait until you had returned from your trip but I was getting so hungry that, in the end, I only went to search for the kitchen not that long ago," I said. "If I'd have known that you would have returned soon, I would have waited."

"Oh Luke," she apologized, believing the story I fed her. Most of it was true; it was just missing vital details. "I'm sorry for leaving you with nothing to eat and I'm especially sorry for making you feel that your journey was against my rules here," she said as she moved to join me on the bed.

"Don't worry, there's no need to apologize," I told her as she draped her left arm over my shoulder so that my head fell on her shoulder. Too quickly, I could feel my body tensing at the sudden contact and my face turning wide eyed and nervous so that I had to force myself to relax to show everything was normal.

Then why did she seem just as tense as me?

"Luke, did you stumble across anything unusual, anything out of place?" She said curiously and quietly.

Ah, so there it was. There was the evidence that my mind needed to click into place all the gears that had been working so furiously before and know that she was hiding something. This nice-guy act must _just_ be an act; Mrs Wormwood had an alternate agenda, just as she always did. But what was she hiding? What plan had she made this time that would win her the Earth or the Bane's trust again or... me?

Well, if she was after me, she'd lost her game now.

But was she after revenge on Sarah-Jane? Is that what this was about, to get Sarah-Jane and all my friends to turn against me so that I leave them willingly? But then why did the car crash by itself and why did my friends turn on me in the first place? It wasn't just because of Sky now that I could see the cracks in Mrs Wormwood's façade. Sky couldn't have made my friends hate me so much in such a short space of time. It was just impossible, I hoped.

But now that I was one step ahead of her, what would her reaction be if I told her about the red door? Human nature and curiosity filling my head, I told her: "Well, there was this one door," I started, already catching a glance back at Mrs Wormwood's face. Her face was stoic, already lost of the worry that she had displayed when I first arrived. She seemed much calmer now, much more collected, but I still had my suspicions. I continued: "I thought it might have been the kitchen door, as it was a different colour."

She watched me explain my story as I tried to watch every face she pulled, but her expression never faltered. There really was no fear that she had lost, no fear that she was going to lose her game – if there was any game to be played.

Was I just being paranoid?

"I'm guessing you didn't manage to open it?" She asked with a smile, looking at the dirt smudged all over my feet.

"No, I didn't. It was locked," I said quietly, still observing her reactions. "Do you know what that room is?" I dared.

"It's just an old electrical room. I thought locking it would be best in case water got in and damaged the wiring," she explained. Then, she humbled. "And, I thought you wouldn't be safe."

"Why wouldn't I be safe?"

She made some more room for me on the bed and gripped my hands tightly. "Whilst I was doing my research on this world, I read something about humans having adverse reactions to water and electricity. Because of the state I found you in, with all the glass, the smoke, the torn metal... all that blood, I just couldn't bring myself to let anything happen to you. I just couldn't, not after already seeing you so broken," she said, fingers tracing over my hands. She looked truly horrified at what she'd learnt.

I swallowed thickly. "Why did you want to protect me so much?"

"I just couldn't be another person in your life to let you down! After seeing what your friends did to you, what Sarah-Jane did to you, I just couldn't leave you. Seeing you on the verge of death made me want to become the mother I had never been before. I now realise that power and revenge aren't what matters: love and family are what brings out even the tiniest sliver of happiness in the darkness this world brings.

"Watching you fall apart so vulnerably made me want to act for the right reasons for once. I wanted, needed, to save you, but not just from that day. I needed to save you from the demons of this world, from hate, from despair and from loneliness, and I needed to set things right and in the way they should have been when I created you. It took me too long to realise this, but I hope, I really hope, that you can forgive me for all that I have done," she said.

Slowly, her hands moved gently from mine, lying to rest upon my crutches which lay haphazardly across my bed.

"I'm not your son," my mouth slipped instinctively.

She just looked at me with understanding eyes. "It's okay if you think that Luke. This isn't about whether you are my son or not, that had never mattered to Sarah-Jane in the past. I just want you to know that I'll do everything I can to look after you and protect you until you make your own decision."

"What if I don't want to be your son, will you still protect me then?"

"Of course." There wasn't even a hint of hesitation at her response.

I finally tore my eyes away from hers. She really felt that? She wanted to protect me? She didn't want to force me to be her son? This... this was all too much for me to process.

"Do you want me to give you some time alone?" She asked, almost reading my mind.

I nodded slowly, fixing my gaze on the wall behind me. If I looked in those calm, assuring blue eyes again, I knew I would have cracked. And I would not break under Mrs Wormwood, I just wouldn't. She was manipulating the situation to get me to like her and to destroy everything I had with Sarah-Jane. She was keeping secrets from me, like what was _really_ hiding behind that red door. It couldn't have just been an electrical generator room, it just couldn't! It had to be something evil, something alien and something horrific that she was going to use to destroy the world, it just had to be!

But what if she was telling the truth? What if she really _did_ want to turn over a new leaf and start over? Over the years that I'd lived on this planet, I'd seen many strange and wonderful things that had changed me and made me good and whole. I had a caring mother and brilliant friends, giving me the best love and care I could ever had hoped for. I was given greater knowledge than most people could dream of knowing and I lived in wild excitement almost every day. If this world had stopped me from becoming a puppet for the bane to destroy the human race, then surely it could have changed Mrs Wormwood.

She may have also told the truth about the room. Looking back at my sodden feet, I knew how much water had caked the surface of the floor. That amount could have easily damaged electrical machinery, and if I'd been in the water at the same time...

Maybe... maybe she really had changed. I hadn't seen anything malicious from her. I was just being biased to the person I'd seen before.

But then I remembered the Blathereen and how much damage they had caused from the Rakweed plant. I remembered being in the worst pain I'd ever felt just because of those tiny alien spores. The feeling of overwhelming tiredness growing worse and worse until I could no longer hold something as light as a phone scared me, all because Sarah-Jane had chosen to give the Blathereen a second chance. I would have been comatose – or worse, dead – along with the rest of the human race if Rani and Clyde hadn't worked out that a specific level of volume could destroy the Rakweed for good.

But then Androvax had wanted to save his species after returning to Earth in search of a spaceship containing the last of his kind. Granted, he went the wrong way about it and nearly destroyed the Earth from what Sarah-Jane and the others had told me about it soon after, but I thought about what Androvax had wanted to do the first time he came to Earth: he wanted to destroy the planet out of jealousy for how the universe had killed his planet but let others live on. In the end, all he wanted to do was feel belonged.

Isn't that what Mrs Wormwood would want to feel?

Before Mrs Wormwood could step out the room, my stomach grumbled lightly. She looked back at me and smiled curtly.

"I never did find the kitchen," I said in embarrassment.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure to cook something extra large for you, seeing as you're so desperately hungry," she said, chuckling.

She shut the door behind her, leaving me on my bed.

Dawn was just breaking over the desolate horizon, pouring warm light into my cold white room. Shivers were sent through my spine because of the sudden change in temperature, but I just couldn't believe what Mrs Wormwood had told me.

She _cared_ for me. She wanted to look after me and protect me! She was a completely different person to the one I knew only a few years ago. Maybe being lost in space and learning from the human race had taught her about forgiveness and salvation. It didn't have to be a religious kind of forgiveness, just human. The old Mrs Wormwood would have laughed at this thought – a bane learning human behaviour. The idea would have been ridiculous, but not so much now.

I gently moved my crutches so that they balanced between the corner of my bed and the wall. Tugging the sheets gently, I moved myself into a seated position on the bed, pillow propping me up and the covers keeping me warm. The sun continued to peak over the horizon as I stared outside the window, thinking things over and over again.

_Sarah-Jane's my mother!_

_But Mrs Wormwood created me. Technically, _she_ is my real mother._

_Yes, but, Sarah-Jane took me in. She looked after me and taught me everything I know now._

_Then why did she betray me? Why did she let everyone else betray me?_

_But was that scenario even true? Were they under some kind of influence?_

_But if it was an influence, why did everything hurt so much? Why did it feel so real? An influence isn't supposed to feel that real._

_I know but... but..._

_But what?_

Confused, I let go of the covers and furiously rubbed my hair with my hands. Why was everything so confusing? Nothing should _feel_ this confusing. I couldn't think like this, being reduced to argument after argument. I was a genius; I shouldn't have felt so conflicted. But I did, and it terrified me. My body was quaking with not knowing what to do, feeling so much confusion and despair when I should have taken control and exposed Mrs Wormwood for what I thought she was.

But I was wrong.

As soon as Mrs Wormwood returned with a large tray full of hot, steaming soup, two sandwiches filled to the brim with, what looked like, chicken and salad, a bowl of fruit and warm hot chocolate, she was smiling warmly at me. That was enough to put my crazed mind into focus. It was then that I knew she could fill the hole that everyone else had made in my heart. She was the one who wanted to protect me, to care for me, to save me from them.

I made my decision. I was going to stay with Mrs Wormwood.

* * *

**Was this what you expected? Reviews are much appreciated – and I'll try to take the time to answer some of them this time!**


	8. Chapter 8

**I think monthly updates are becoming more of a thing, but I'm not promising anything. I've got my GCSE's to look forward to soon and I'm still trying to recover from finding out one of my favourite bands have split up (RIP My Chemical Romance, your memory will carry on!). And now, after going off script in the last chapter, I've had to change the direction of the plot, which is taking some time for me to think through.**

**Anyway, enjoy! And Happy Easter!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters from the Sarah Jane Adventures; they belong to the BBC.**

* * *

_Monday_

"I was wondering whether it would be time for the cast to come off of your leg," Mrs Wormwood suddenly suggested whilst I was grabbing the last rasher of bacon from the plate.

"Really?" I said, brow furrowing. Quickly, I stuffed the piece of food into my mouth to finish my meal before any more questions were asked.

Mrs Wormwood nodded. "Yes, I did some more research last night and found out that your leg was only fractured, not broken. That means you only need to have about six to eight weeks in a cast, maybe longer if you moved your leg about. But, since you were confined to your bed for four weeks after the accident, your leg has barely moved. It's been seven weeks since the accident now and I thought it would be best to take it off."

I returned the plate to the table next to me, eyes wide open. It had been seven weeks?

Mrs Wormwood smiled at my reaction. "It doesn't seem that long, does it," she almost laughed.

"No, it really hasn't," I said quietly.

Had it been seven weeks since everything had happened? Maybe it only felt so short because of how long I'd slept after the accident happened, but I still couldn't believe it. Seven weeks since they'd all betrayed me, seven weeks since my car grew a mind of its own and decided to take its own dangerous detour. Into a tree. It definitely didn't feel like seven weeks.

"So my cast can come off?" I asked, switching my mind away from that topic.

"Yes, I think we can take it off," she answered cautiously.

"Do you not think I'm ready yet?" I said, noticing her concern.

She just shrugged and lowered her gaze to face away from me. "It's not that I don't think you're ready, it's not that at all."

"Then what is it?

She breathed in deep, raising her shoulders and, subsequently, her vision came back to me. "I don't think I'm ready. You see, in order to take off the cast, I must use a special type of saw to cut through the cast, but I'm worried about what you may feel if I do it wrong. What if I accidently cut part of your arm if I put too much force on the saw? What if I get the wrong saw and it does more damage than good? What if-"

"What if none of that actually happened?" I countered. Relaxing my posture, I tried to radiate calm towards her panic-stricken state. "Just breathe, okay? Everything's going to be fine," I assured her, which was strange; surely it should be her reassuring me. "What kind of saw do you have to use?"

She tried to breathe deeply again. "It's a saw with a dull blade. It vibrates enough to break the cast but not the skin," she said.

"Okay, so the saw won't actually hurt me. It would have been designed in a specific way to ensure that it doesn't hurt me at all," I said.

"But what if I do it wrong? I'm not human, Luke, I don't have the same training as the doctors and nurses that use these tools almost every day! Something could go wrong and I've sworn to protect you. I just couldn't bare it if-"

"Hey, calm down," I quietly said. My arm immediately reached out to sooth her shaking hand, and the sudden movement seemed to end her fear. "You'll be fine. I don't know a thing about it either, but I can help you along the way. I'll tell you everything I'm feeling; if there's any unwanted pain, I'll ask you to stop, okay?"

She nodded tearfully. "Okay, Luke."

A deafening silence plagued the next few moments whilst I drew back my hand from hers. None of us said anything – it felt like we'd already said everything we needed to – so we just sat and regained what composure we could.

It was strange comforting Mrs Wormwood. I'd been so used to believing she was the enemy that some of who she had been couldn't escape me. She'd tried to once rule the universe, forcing me to be her true son, and kill Sarah-Jane once and for all. So, naturally, it was a bit strange for me to suddenly be giving the words of comfort.

"When do you think we'd be able to take it off?" I asked, taking the edge off the silent air.

"Probably by the end of the week. I need to get the saw and make sure that your leg will be fine for us to take the cast off," she answered with newfound ease.

I nodded back. "Is there anything I could do to pass the time?" Watching Thor over and over again wasn't going to assuage my boredom. "A book to read, maybe, or a new movie to watch?"

"Well... I could make do on the promise I gave you a couple of weeks ago and teach you the Bane language," she suggested herself.

And that was how my week began.

* * *

_Tuesday_

Mrs Wormwood had planned most of today for teaching me some of the Bane language.

The day had started out similarly enough, with Mrs Wormwood bringing me the usual eggs, bacon, toast and juice for breakfast, and we had talked about taking off the cast again. Mrs Wormwood had said that she'd done some more, in depth research last night, and all her worries had been extinguished. She was even contemplating taking me to a hospital and using one of the x-ray machines to look over my leg to check it was _properly_ healed, but she wanted to talk about that when she had some more information on x-ray machines in general.

After returning the dishes to the kitchen (which I still hadn't seen) Mrs Wormwood had brought down a different kind of book to the one she had owned before. The last book had been the size of a regular human book, with a black front and back cover and delicate spine, the letters written in gold foil. No, this one was much older and much larger, in a square shape rather than a rectangle. The corners of the covers were ripped and tattered, and each side was decorated in patterns I had never seen before.

But something alien to me was home to Mrs Wormwood.

"This book helped me learn languages across the galaxy," she began to explain. "It has every word in the Bane language next to the word it means in Enochian, an ancient language that has been long forgotten on this planet but remembered throughout the far corners of the universe. Anyone wanting to learn alien languages must have first been taught Enochian on my planet, but I think we can make an exception for you."

I smiled at her knowledge of the universe. This was something Sarah-Jane could never have told me. Mr Smith, maybe, but Sarah-Jane... she didn't have this knowledge.

"What race spoke Enochian?" I asked gleefully.

"Ah, I'm not quite sure," she said. "It was spoken by beings much higher and much more powerful than any race in the universe. On Earth, humans call them angels and their presence has always been felt in the fabric of the universe. But no one has ever met or spoken with an angel before. They're extremely secretive, but their power and strength was always something to be admired and feared, so the elders of my race made sure we knew Enochian before learning any other language in the universe in case a war broke out between the angels and any other race."

"Wait, so angels really do exist?"

"In a sense, yes, I suppose. They're not the beings described in books and legends like you know, but they do exist," she said as she moved one of the visiting chairs closer to my bed. "Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to meet them," she revealed to me.

"I bet it would be amazing," I smiled, imagining Mrs Wormwood in deep, deep space standing next to something that shone with brilliant light and huge wings, burning with power and both talking in a strange, ancient language. I continued to smile.

"I bet it would too, but I can only dream," she said. "Now, let's get started on learning my own language."

The next few hours leading up until lunch were focussed on me learning the basics of the language. Simple words like 'hello' and 'goodbye' were taught first, then moving onto phrases like 'my name is' came up next. They were the building blocks of conversations that people on Earth would normally start with, and we alternated between speaking and writing everything that I was learning.

By lunch, I could start and engage in a fairly normal conversation with the Bane.

"You're doing very well this morning, Luke," Mrs Wormwood said, carrying a blue tray with my lunch on. From where I sat, it looked like noodles. It smelled like noodles too.

"It's not as easy as it looks, though," I said as she handed me the tray. Yep, definitely noodles, chicken from the colour and smell.

"Indeed. I thought you wouldn't have picked it up so easily, but you've done immensely well," she continued. Pride beamed out of her smile, and I knew she was happy to finally be able to pass on her knowledge to me.

"I didn't realise how much it is to do with sound rather than... letters? I don't know, it's hard to describe," I said. It was true; this language was much more to do with sounds and the way you say the word rather than the actual word. Saying something in a different key, pitch or way could change the entire meaning of the word, and therefore the entire meaning of what you want to say. It was much more difficult than any other language on Earth.

I dug my fork into the pile of noodles before me. "What else have you got planned to teach me?"

"Well, I should be able to teach you about different tenses soon, as well as to name some of the different species of the universe," she listed.

"Including Earth species?"

She chuckled. "Of course, Earth species included."

* * *

_Friday_

It turned out that learning a new language for almost all day, every day, for three days really could pay off. Already, I had learnt how to engage in small talk – if the Bane really had the time to engage in small talk – describe different types of weather on the Bane's planet, previously unknown to humans, as well as Earth weather; I had also learnt animal, plant and alien names. Mrs Wormwood had also been teaching me the basics of past and future tenses.

This was where it started to get tricky. Like in any language, words and sounds changed when changing the tense. And there were different types of tenses too! As well as just plain past tense, there was also the past participle, and the future had different types too.

It was a good thing I'd previously taken French to learn about the different types of tenses.

Nevertheless, I persevered. If anything, it was just something to do, something to take my mind off the thoughts that would wander in while I sat bored. I would be staring at the wall in the hopes of something to do, when whispers of memories started to take hold.

_Steam. Something bright and powerful flashing around me. Blaring streams of noise crashing around my newly awakened ears._

_Run. Keep running. That's all I know. Just run, keep on running. Move one foot in front of the other. Run forward; turn left, then right, then left again. Past long, circular things. Avoid the other running men. Keep moving, keep running._

_Then, another person._

"_Hello?" The strange person called._

"_Uh, hello," I repeated._

"_Who are you?" The person asked._

"_Who are you?"_

_The person exhaled heavily. "I'm lost."_

"_I'm lost."_

_A sound. One of them. I turn to the strange, new person, and then run._

_Keep running. Keep running. Keep running..._

Those memories were the worst. The first ones; they promised hope and warmth and... love. And I fell for it. What did I get in the end? I was betrayed, shunned, kicked out of the family I thought loved me, friends I thought cared for me. I was led into a life I thought was worth believing in and worth living in, when all I got in the end was pain and denial.

They lied to me! They broke me and they left me to crash my own life into oblivion. They probably planned it. They probably all worked together to put some kind of device on my car that Mr Smith could use to track and control. That's probably why I crashed, wasn't it? It couldn't have happened all by itself, could it? No, someone had tampered with my car and, after everything that happened, I wouldn't have been surprised if it was them.

"Luke?"

With a click of her fingers, I was brought back to reality.

"Are you alright, you had blanked out there for a second," she commented, setting the Bane/Enochian book down by her side. The phrase she used made me chuckle.

"You just used a very... human sentence there."

"Yes, I guess I did," she mused to herself. She pressed on, though: "but are you okay?"

I nodded solemnly. "Yeah, I'm fine."

She stared me down, eyes penetrating. "Luke, I know enough of human behaviour to sense when someone is lying-"

"I'm not lying."

"-or hiding their true emotions," she managed to finish after I'd interrupted.

"Alright then," I conceded. "A, uh, memory surfaced. One of my first ones... kind of brought back everything that happened a few months ago," I started.

She didn't say anything, just nodded her head in encouragement to continue.

"It made me wonder what really happened that day, how my car managed to drive itself into a remote wood and crashed suddenly. It was weird... really weird. I lost complete control that day, and I just couldn't get the thought out of my head that... they had done that to me."

"Luke," she began, not really finding the words.

"Do you believe me?"

"No... yes... I'm not sure," she struggled. "I honestly don't know. I only found your car after trying to track your location. I didn't find anything malicious that may have belonged to your friends-"

"They're not my friends," I interrupted again.

"I could look into it for you?" She offered, pure concern written on her face.

"You'd do that for me?"

"Of course I would; if finding out who did that to you would put the demons in your head to rest then I would do it in a heartbeat."

Woah. "Um... you really don't have to. You're already busy with my leg and all, I'd be afraid I'd just be adding to your load," I said.

"It's nothing, really. I said I'd take care of you, including stopping the nightmares from returning," she replied. Picking the book back up, she turned to leave. "Just make sure you revise your vocabulary for tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay," I yawned.

There were no nightmares that night thanks to Mrs Wormwood. Again.

* * *

**Sorry for my Supernatural reference, I couldn't help it. This chapter was going to be longer, but if I tried to write the whole week in one chapter, it would have been way too long. Reviews are welcome and much appreciated!**


	9. Chapter 9

**I hope you all had a great Easter and that the last Chapter was good. Oh, and just to let you know, I had to go back to my revision books to write this chapter. Science – the joys of writing a genius! Forgive me if I'm medically inaccurate at all, too, as I have no experience with hospital equipment or injuries.**

**Well, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from The Sarah Jane Adventures.**

* * *

_Saturday_

The weekend mainly consisted of things related to my fractured leg. Today was the day Mrs Wormwood would check it and then hopefully take the cast off with the saw. Her confidence in herself had grown since the beginning of the week and we were both ready to get this cast off my leg as soon as possible.

Until then, though, I kept learning. Now that I knew most of the little words that built up sentences, I was able to speak more fluently. It was a wonder, really, at how easy I could start to pick up a language once I knew the little words. It made me wonder how well at other languages I could be if I put my mind to it.

Writing my next sentence, Mrs Wormwood walked in the room. Well, I say walked in the room; she was more struggling into the room. Her cheeks were red from holding her breath too long as she pushed in something huge and heavy. It looked like some kind of machine, wires dragging across the floor as Mrs Wormwood continued to pull the contraption across. It had a bed at the base of the machine, with something large and looming growing out of the side like a tree. At the top, a secondary box hung from it. Thrown on top of the bed was an apron, dull with age. It looked more like a lead apron than something made out of plastic or fabric: it was an x-ray machine.

"Need any help?" I offered whilst she moved to the other side of the bed to turn a corner.

"No, I can manage. I'm nearly there," she told me, although I guessed she was telling herself more than me.

I pursed my lips in waiting, giving a small grin once she'd finally moved the machine next to my bed. "How long did it take you to drag this through the warehouse?" I said as she began to plug the numerous wires into the wall.

"I don't know. I wasn't really checking the time, just that I had to get it here," she answered breathlessly. Once all the cables were plugged in, she quickly stood up and fumbled back to the door again. Turning, she said: "make sure you sit yourself so that the leg is in the middle of the bed. Put the apron on, too."

Following her instructions, I slowly moved myself onto the bed, making sure my fractured leg was sat in the middle of the firm mattress. It felt more like a table than a bed.

Next, I fumbled for the apron, sliding the metal on top of my body to cover any bare skin. I knew what x-rays could do; if you were exposed for too long, they could ionise the cells in the body (to put it simply, the energy from the x-rays could split a cell in your body until it divides over and over again), leading to cancer. In high doses, the radiation from the x-rays could kill the cells, and the longer you're exposed to radiation, the more damage it causes. This was why I followed the instructions to letter, making sure anything that wasn't being scanned wouldn't be exposed.

You see, the lead would protect me because they would absorb the energy produced from the machine, thus leaving my body unharmed. Assuming that Mrs Wormwood hadn't gotten another lead apron, I guessed she would be standing outside the room – concrete also absorbed x-rays.

The machine was silent while I waited for Mrs Wormwood to return. Nervously, I picked at my cast. _Where could she have gotten this machine from?_ I wordlessly said to myself. Hospital security couldn't have possibly been so loose as to let an expensive, huge piece of equipment to go wondering, as well as the machines Mrs Wormwood had first gotten to keep me alive in the first place.

As I took in my own thoughts, Mrs Wormwood clambered back into the room, hands full with a large crate piled with medical items. Sticking out of the top was a large stand with a control panel. It looked similar to the x-ray machine, so I guessed it was a remote control to start the procedure.

"Unfortunately, I only have one of the more basic machines with me. I didn't want to impose on hospitals by taking the better machines that could help others, so I took this one," she explained as she laid a large sheet of black film underneath my leg. "Don't worry, I'll return it once we're done."

"How exactly did you get it out of a hospital in the first place?"

She tapped her nose, looking quizzically at me as if to say 'did I use this right?'

"That's okay. You used it correctly," I told her.

She nodded and smiled. "Sorry Luke, you may find out one day."

Carefully, she set my leg directly underneath the box overhead. I instinctively moved my right leg out of the way so it wouldn't exposed, moving my left leg slightly. Mrs Wormwood looked at me.

"Try not to move your left leg; keep your body as still as possible," she said, moving my left leg in place again.

"Okay," I mumbled, positioning my hands sternly into the bed-table as if they grew from it.

Mrs Wormwood breathed, pressed something on the control panel, and then moved outside of the room, leaving me on my own with a dangerous-but-helpful machine next to me, primed to go off.

I tried to keep as still as possible, even when the machine suddenly hummed into life. My palms mindlessly tried to dig further into the table to get me more stabilized. A few seconds passed and I waited nervously for the hum of the machine to suddenly switch off.

Then, a thought occurred to me: she didn't tell me how long the process would take. I thought it would take a few seconds for the process to happen, not really having intimate knowledge on x-rays. After five minutes of sitting stock still on the table, panic struck me. I desperately wanted to call out and ask her, but worried for both the stillness of my leg and that Mrs Wormwood could walk in and be exposed.

I sat quietly, feeling my arms shaking from holding me up so long. _In through the nose, out through the mouth. Deep breathes. In through the nose, out through the mouth._ My arms shook, nearly keeling from the strain of my body. I desperately tried to stop the shaking that was growing from slight to violent, hoping my leg wasn't being affected.

_Keep holding yourself, Luke. Just carry on, you'll be fine._

My muscles were getting weaker and weaker with every second of use. My bones felt like jelly from holding myself up for nearly ten minutes now, and I could feel throbbing in my hands. Blood was pumping loudly in my ears and I hoped, with every fibre of my being, that the waiting would end soon. This heavy lead apron was not helping either.

After just over eleven minutes, the hum of the machine stopped.

I closed my eyes tightly and carried on lifting myself up. I needed to be sure that it was safe to move, but only once Mrs Wormwood walked back in through the door.

Then, the door burst open and I could let go. I sighed heavily and let my back rest against the cool metal of the bed-table. My arms felt like they were on fire after being relaxed, the palms of my hands numb. My muscles were still trembling from the abuse, and Mrs Wormwood voiced her concern once she'd returned.

"Luke, are you alright? Were there any problems with the machine?"

"No, I'm fine," I groaned. "Just didn't realize how long it would take for the machine to be finished."

"That's my fault, I truly am sorry Luke," she said, already becoming distracted from the picture hiding below my leg and making a fuss of me. "If I told you-"

"Can we just see the picture please? I'm fine. Nothing else is broken and I was shielded from the x-ray."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm fine," I repeated. "Let's just check if my leg is fine, please?"

She stopped hovering by my side and returned to the middle of the table, pulling out the black film carefully from underneath my casted leg. I helped by gingerly lifting my leg up, not feeling any consequential pain. Mrs Wormwood left the picture by the end of the table as she returned to the crate near my bed. There, she pulled out a large white board from the bottom of the pile and swiftly returned back to the machine.

A switch flicked at the back of the board and the white background lit up, giving the room an ethereal glow that I hadn't really seen in this room before. In one swift movement, she clipped the black film into the top border, revealing white shapes against the glow of the machine. She eyed it carefully, analyzing and making sure that she had grasped everything on the image of my leg bone. From where I was sitting, the bright picture leg bone shone out, looking clean and smooth, no breaks at all. Mrs Wormwood's careful contemplation of my leg got me wondering if she'd done this before.

"It looks healed to me," she observed. "I think we can take that cast off now."

Excitement bubbled in my chest. "Wait, you really mean that?"

"Of course, I would have said so otherwise," she replied, honesty in her eyes. As always; honesty had never left her eyes, deceit never once flashing in her changed face.

The box grasped her interest again as she rummaged through what little remained. Out of it, she picked a saw. The saw was strange, not the kind I'd seen builders handle on the daytime TV shows I'd seen before all this happened, no large sheet of metal with ragged spikes held haphazardly by a plastic handle. This saw was strangely small, with only a tiny, spike-edged circular blade screwed on to a large body, a tail of wire sticking from the back leading to a plug.

"Are you ready for this Luke?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

The saw – if you could call it a saw – was plugged into the socket nearest my bed, primed and ready to take this thing off my leg. "Just relax yourself, okay? Tell me if you feel anything," she instructed softly, holding the saw over my leg with precision.

"I will, I promise."

She began after that, gently turning the blade on till it spun, its blades blurring into oblivion. The metal sunk slowly through the shell of the cast, sending small sprays of dust from the schism it created. She dragged the blade down the length of the cast, lengthening the gap with each centimetre she moved. Vibrations ricocheted in the cast, shaking the base of my leg until it felt almost numb. There was no pain, only a small tickling sensation that was, essentially, what made the saw harmless.

Mrs Wormwood was careful when she cut, allowing the vibrations from the saw to crack the cast so that she didn't need to plunge it any further. The skin of my leg had almost forgotten how to breathe properly as more of the cast undone itself. Pure air reacted with my skin, hairs rising and tingling at the breath of life it was granted. The smoothness of the cast was disappearing with every shaking second of the cast cracking and splitting, opening my leg up to the freedom of light and life. I swear even in that moment that I could even feel my bone full and strong and healthy again, strong to the core even with these ongoing vibrations threatening to tear it open again. No, everything was perfect.

The saw was off, the cast broken.

The temptation to rip the main body of my cast off was too great to pass up as Mrs Wormwood began to snap the bottom half of the cast underneath my leg as I reached forward, tugging my fingers over the tough material that had been shielding my leg.

Wait... what was the _smell_?

"That, Luke, is the result of seven weeks of not washing this leg," Mrs Wormwood said as I almost shot back from where I'd leant forward, not realising I'd actually said that thought aloud.

"Will it go?" I said, almost cringing at how embarrassing my voice sounded from trying to not breathe through my nose at all. That made Mrs Wormwood laugh.

"I think a wash and a lot of human soap will clean that smell away from your leg," she chuckled to herself.

Laughing, we continued to peel back the cast, breaking off the two halves without trying to irritate my leg, which was now revealed to be thinner than I remembered it, paler than usual and dry flakes of skin threatening to tear off with every touch. Delicately, I grazed my thumb over the limb, sensitive skin reacting badly with the touch.

"We've got to build your limb up back to strength, Luke," she informed, noticing its thinness compared to my healthy leg. "We'll take regular walks, starting with short walks and building up to longer ones. The internet urged me to be careful when repairing your leg."

"I'm guessing that means regularly soaking my leg, then," I said, remembering the dry, dusty feeling on my skin that I knew wouldn't go away with just a click of my fingers.

"Yes, and you must be gentle when drying them," she said, gathering her equipment and returning it back to the box she had brought it in.

Taking it as my cue to move, I swivelled my body to face the bed adjacent to the x-ray machine, taking care when bending my left leg to prepare it for the push to the bed. The sensations were weird, tingles and pricks of pain escaping my leg, but the freedom and bliss to move it was overpowering. A smile graced my lips, happiness filling me up like water to a glass. I was brimming with relief and ecstasy, pushing my body off the machine and onto the bed where I was able to stretch my newly freed leg with hardly any pain at all. It was pure, simple freedom, and I loved it.

It was strange how the littlest things could change your outlook on life. With my cast, I could still move, and I was sure that I would still be on crutches until my leg was strong enough to walk on its own, but the cast was the symbol of weakness, a signal that I had been injured and couldn't use my own body right. The removal of it meant I was recovering, that I was getting better. I was getting stronger and soon there would be no weakness, no signal of pain.

Mrs Wormwood returned from the box armed with bandages and clothe, sitting down next to me on the bed. The bed dipped where she sat, and I knew that it was time to change the bandages along my ribs again. I raised my shirt which opened the bandages to Mrs Wormwood's view.

"You're learning the routine well," she said, reaching out to unwind the bandages that were coming loose after how much I'd worn them.

"I've been doing this for so long now; I know exactly what's coming."

"You've only been awake for about three weeks Luke. That amount of time isn't long in the human measurement of time," she told me, eyebrows raised quizzically.

I shrugged. "I don't know... it feels like I've been here forever."

The bandages grew looser with every revolution she turned, the hold they had on my ribs fading. I snuck a glance down at my body, watching as the bandages unravelled to reveal my bruised skin, fading from a light purple shade to a sickly yellow, the swelling much further down than it had been the last time she'd undid the bandages.

"You really are recovering well," she stated as the last of the coils were taken away.

"Yeah, I'm almost healthy again."

She pressed her fingers against my ribs, pushing down hard to check for any more cracks or breaks. It was weird letting her do that... all my thoughts screamed 'this is Mrs Wormwood you're letting do this to you, the woman who almost destroyed the universe', but all it took was a memory of how she'd been the one who'd fixed my world after it destroyed itself to calm me down. Mrs Wormwood picked up on my panic, however.

"Do you not trust me?"

"Of course I do, you know I do," I said. "It was just, um, old instinct taking over, nothing for you to worry about," I continued, her silent staring pinning my thoughts into anxiousness.

She moved her hand away from my ribs. "It's okay, I understand. I was your enemy for a very long time, after all."

"Look, I know what you did. I remember it very well, with me not being able to forget anything, but I _do_ trust you. These past three weeks – no, _seven_ weeks – have proven to me that you have changed. I admit, I doubted your motivation the first few weeks, but I... I forgive you, okay? I forgive you."

And I did. I really did forgive her.

"I tried to manipulate the universe to my will, I took you from your family and friends at gunpoint, and I tried to use you to turn the human race to food. I do not deserve your forgiveness," she mumbled hoarsely.

"And it's for that reason that I do forgive you. You regret it, a thing so rare for the kind of people who did what you did." My hand reached out to hers, holding it steady. "I really do forgive you."

Silence, comfortable silence, passed between us.

"Let's continue this, shall we?" I offered, watching as tears began to build in her eyes.

"Yes, lets."

* * *

**This one week is going to take up three chapters, oops. Well, anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter; another one **_**should**_** be coming soon-ish. Summer exams start soon, so I can't promise anything.**

**Reviews are welcomed and appreciated so much!**


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